


Oh Fuck➳Stenbrough

by asomina



Series: We Drew Stories In The Fog That Rests On Windows [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, Love Simon (2018)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Happy Ending, M/M, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asomina/pseuds/asomina
Summary: ❝What do you mean you didn't get a name?❞❝Well, I didn't exactly get a face either...oh fuck❞In which Stan falls in love with the words of a boy at a party, after party after party...never seeing who it was.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Original Character(s)
Series: We Drew Stories In The Fog That Rests On Windows [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603150
Comments: 111
Kudos: 102





	1. {It Isn't Real}

  
It was difficult, Stan could admit that, but never outloud. He was struggling, he knew that. But saying that outloud? No that would mean it was real, and Stan had a little issue with facing the consequences of reality.

When anything went wrong, which seemed to be more often than not, he would just imagine that he wasn't really himself, and this wasn't really his life. He was just a character in a book or a movie or a show. That none of it was real, and if it was, how did it matter? But fuck it. He'd just save it for the fucking memoirs, pull out a small book or something when people asked how his life got so fucked, _well...here you see_ _exibite B_.

Stan didn't like it, this whole growing up thing. Well there wasn't many things he disliked about it, just a few that he could fit on the palm of his hand...if he carved or burned the words deep in his skin. He didn't have to, it was engraved in his mind, it would spirall through his body and slip past his tongue as he whispered the ghosts that haunted him outloud.

It wasn't like he was physically abused or had a shortage of clean water or was molested by a family member, so through life he learned not to complain, well not outloud anyway.

Stan couldn't explain it, the way he felt, other than it felt like he was empty, dead, whatever that was left of his spirit, soul or life inside of his was slipping away. His first thought? _About fucking time_.

But then he realised no one could appreciate my dark humour when he was actually dead. He knew he had been falling.

Falling through a distorted perception of time, where everything strains to a pause but sprints past and swallows him whole.

His hands tried to reach out to touch the sky and grasp the endless crevasse of tinted blue once, but to say the least, it didn't work. Stan didn't like to talk about it.

Everything was a blur, a blur swirled out of existence. Whilst suspended in the air, he often closed his eyes to surrender myself to the infinite sky above.

But instead the fear dissolves as serenity paints a calming thought, with soft brush strokes and damp cotton, the soul that will contaminate his heart and thoughts for seemingly forever.

But it was moments like this, that were painted realistically by the world. Because there was only one question that circulated his brain and he couldn't get rid of it.

_How the fuck did I get here?_

So everything he ever felt, experienced, loved and wished flooded through him, coursing beneath my skin. As if it was trying to recreate enough energy to give him life.

Stan didn't remember much between the ages of eight and twelve. Just that the world moved slow and his brain moved too fast.

Everything was so fucking boring, he'd find something that would catch up with his mind, momentarily like first learning to ride a bike or just fucking running. But eventually that would wear thin and fall slow again.

He could remember his first anxiety attack, like he would ever forget. He collapsed in the middle of class because he couldn't fucking breathe, which was embarassing enough, it got worse when he had to be taken to hospital afterwards. Stan thought that was stupid, he would've been saved the embarassment and the panic if they just let him finish counting the tiles on the celing.

It was clear after that he was kind of fucked up. Whilst he was waiting outside the doctor's office he was given a couple of puzzles. That's when he figured out that he was fucking brilliant at that shit. It could keep up with hin, challenging sometimes.

It was also the night he was told he had mild OCD, general anxiety and whatever the fuck he didn't listen nor care, his parents did and they were the ones who sorted of all the sort of shit out for him. Why would he want to know the extent of how he was fucked? It was all just a fucking excuse.

He grew up only knowing two things: no matter how much sleep he got he would always be fucking exhausted and every now and then, if he focused too closely on the way I breathed, he'd die.

Until every second of every day, he found find myself trying to outrun anxiety. But like gave up, because complaining about shit was easier than doing anything about it.

So when he found himself counting the tiles on his celing, or organizing the pencils on his desk, again and again until his fingers chapped raw, callusing over his fingertips, he knew he couldn't complain, because he was surrounded by people...people who had it worse of than him, people who would compare their trauma and people who would feel bad for him.

And if there was one thing, in that little list of things he wish would just go fuck itself. It was that, pity.

He saw it in his parents eyes whenever they saw him panicking because _someone_ thought it would be a good idea to 'tidy' his room. Seriously, it pained him to get pissed off.

To put it plainly, Stan was just bored. He wanted more in his life than going to school, procrastinating and listening to Richie's jokes. He had read books, he wanted what _they_ had, the characters had. The adventures, the dangers, the love-he guessed that wouldn't be too bad either.

If there was one thing that Stan knew he wanted it was that. To feel a little reckless than he was, to have something more to him, than just Stan.

"Hey Stanthony" His bestfriend and to put it simply-one of his only close friends. Stan talked to a lot of people, most people did that, but those he was close with, like went to hang out with, had sleepovers with were limited to a few pleasant faces.

That's what he meant when he said he didn't have many friends. He meant people who he loves unconditionally, even if they make terrible jokes.

"What can I do you for Rich?" Stan asked, lowering his History text book and looked over at his loud friend.

"Oof, starting a new strategy, I'm flattered. For you no price, but I'm a little busy most nights with you mum" Richie said with a wink, causing Stan to roll his eyes which he found himself doing a lot around Richie, it was a miracle he hadn't rolled his eyes out of his sockets at this point.

"Fuck you- wait no, just what do you want?" Stan asked and Richie grinned, that kind of grin which said 'I'm going to ask something big of you, that is going to benefit me hugely and I'm going to try to convince you that being uncomfortable what be the only thing you'll get out of it' and Stan bated those grins.

"Well I was wondering you know how you've always really wanted to be friends with that Mike guy-"

"That's something that you want" Stan reminded him, tapping the edge of his book in repeative patterns, Richie ignored him and continued anyway.

"He's hosting a party and I was wondering if you wanted to go" Richie said quickly and Stan dropped his book completly.

"Sure"He said without hesistating.

"There isn't even going to be that many people, I mean come on Stamn-wait what?" Richie asked and Stan smirked, enjoying seeing Richie confused a little too much.

"I'll go with you" Stan said and Richie's moment of shock passed over nearly ad quickly as it started and he began rambling on about it at a million miles per hour.

It was a moment Stan was waiting for, most of the time. It wasn't like he had never been to one before but most of the time they were too shit to stay much longer. But a party, by Mike, probably the most friendly kid at the school who everyone loved.That, that was something Stan could stick around for.

He had always wanted to go to a proper party, where there is too much alcohol and he could do something that regular Stan was too scared to do. Which he knew was bullshit as the alchol at teen parties were weak shit as no one actually liked beer or vodka yet, so it would take a lot, a lot of cider, or WCKD, White Lighting etc, to make you pissed. Stan liked to daydream about a more excitable side effect of alcohol that wasn't him just getting more tired and disoriented.

Maybe people would actually do some interesting shit that they wouldn't remember in the morning. Every time they go to a party, they wake up hugover but didn't drink enough to do something reckless and not remember. What the fuck was the point?Not matter what Stan did it never seemed to be like the books.

Would he ever be under the influence and accidently kiss someone else other than the main love interest and create a love triangle? The answer: no he wouldn't because even when pissed he was still just that fucking boring.

To be honest, Stan never understood the huge stigma around parties. People either loved them or depised them and even if they said they loved them, it was usually a lie.

He didn't have enough of an emotional connection with them to have much of an opinion of them. He just thought they were overated, whether you were praising them or critiscing them, you were only doing so to sound edgy.

The only reason most people even went was because it was a time to socialise and pretend they were doing something with their life other than homework and getting emotionally invested in TV shows.

He decided to go to the party in his regular clothes, as he had no other confidence to do much else. But he did take a coat, you know, just in case it got a bit cold outside.

Also because he was certain his mother had super powers that just knew whenever he wasn't wearing it. He could be drug addict for all she cared, but it as long as he was wearing a coat, it didn't matter.

He met Bev on the way there and Ben, who he had a small bet on, without actual money in a , 'Will they?or won't they? Losers edition' 

"So what are we even going to be doing there?" Bev asked as they turned to the next street.

"Pretending to like the taste of alchol whilst pretending to like everyone there" Ben said cynically causing the other three to laugh.

"Don't really care what's happening, as long as there isn't a karaoke machine" Stan shuddered, remembering the horrors of Richie's Miley Cyrus cover-he was complety sober.

The door was already open when they arrived and all Stan could think about was that couldn't be safe of practical.

It would bring an awful draft in, what if we get cold?

But this thought was discarded as soon as they walked in as with the burning lights and sweaty bodies against the walls, he stood corrected.

"Took you guys long enough" Mike said as he joined the four of them, with a smirk on his face, or a smile. Stan couldn't tell due to the lighting.

"Bev took us the wrong way" Stan said. "Had Google maps the wrong way round"

"Neither of you pointed that out whilst we were following it" Bev noted, causing them to laugh.

After about twenty minutes of hiding the karoke machine from Richie, Stan found himself at the 'bar' which was really just a kitchen table and a chalkboard with incorrect spelling on it which made Stan cringe.

  
He was handed plenty of plastic cups filled with, what looked like to Thomas filled with death and regret, but drank it anyway.

"Yess I love this song" Bev said cheering as a Katy Perry song came on. She grabbed Ben's arm who grabbed Richue who grabbed Stan, onto the dancefloor.

They continued to swing their arms around and shuffle awkwardly to the next couple of songs, but eventually Stan grew tired and as he wasn't drinking at such a speed as the others he needed to sit down, the flashing lights not doing well for Stan's newly formed headache. At one point he was scared he was having seizure.

"How are you doing Stan?" The 'bar attender' Conner said, who sat next to him in maths. Yet again another person he spoke to, but he wasn't sure if they were friends friends.

"Been a pretty boring night, almost exactly as I expected it would be, except there hasn't been a game truth or dare where I have to kiss a really cute guy" He joked causing them both to laugh.

"Oh you just missed it that was in the other room" Another voice said, his tongue twirled with an elusive nature that formed a thin glass of tension, as words rolled through his lips slowly and impulsive, each word as piercing as a heel stepping into that ice, causing spirals of fear and confusion almost breaking with the tension.

Stan turned to face whoever had spoken, but sadly after a few the lights were making it impossible to see anything, he squinted in the general direction of the voice. 

_Fuck I'm not pissed enough for this._ He thought, he quickly chugged the next cup of Smirdoff Ice, which was another shit party drink. Seriously if anyone was acting out tonighy they were faking it. 

"Or everyone beong really drunk after being here for only five minutes" Stan said.

"We haven't had a random pervert that I have to save you from either" The stranger added and he laughed, nodding, liking the way his voice  
tasted like syrup, but words curled through a manner understrain, as if being slowed down sensually by a thick layer of soulless black treacle, sliding through his deceiving lips.

Stan was unable to panic when the boy shifted towards him, taking a seat next to him, he was too tired.

"You're a bit too cynical, I thought you wouldn't come to parties" Stan said, instantly cursing his tongue as he did so.

The boy turned to him slowly "I don't"

"Then what changed?" Stan asked, hating his newly found confidence.

The boy tilted his head, as if it interested him how someone would be so interested in him "I'm looking out for my friend, Bev"

"You know she's pretty strong right? She can look after herself" Stan said, nit suprised that Bev had yet another friend he didn't know about. She had way too many, he couldn't be jealous. 

"Of course, but no harm in helping. But I had another motive as well" The boy said stirring his drink with a straw.

"Really? Do parties include fun new ways of flirting with people?" Stan asked quickly biting his tongue after he did so. They weren't flirting, were they? Was this what flirting was? Did it mean something different pissed? Why do books never tell you this shit?

To his suprise the bkt chuckled "I'll have whatever he's having, I'm guessing it's pretty strong" He told Conner

"Very funny...do you have a name or do you just sit there annyoying people?" Stan asked and through the red light, he could see a smirk fall through the boy's lips.

"What do you want my number with that as well?" He laughed and Stan rolled his eyes. That wasn't what he meant!

"And I'll have whatever he's having, because it's got to be a lot stronger than mine, to think I want a stranger's number" Stan said, but not exactly to the 'bar attender', he was more standing up and shouting to no one in particular.

"It's the same drink dumbass" The boy said and Stan thought he heard a faint giggle, but decided it was just the drinks.

With his eyes syncing with the light patterns, a purple hue that grew bright ans illuminated the side of the boy's face, but not enough for Stan to actually see it, as he thought he was going tempoarily blind with all of these fucking lights. 

"You're so cyncial about me, you don't seem like you want to be here either" The boy said and Stan sighed heavily.

"I would be if I wasn't such a fucking disaster-" He began but was cut off by Richie who had appeared behind him.

"Yeah, yeah come on Disaster we have to get going I may or may not have smashed the TV with a Wii remote" Richie said, dragging Stan away from the bar. 

"No, wait"He turned around, still able to see the figure of the boy he had been talking to. "That's not my name" He shouted back to him, which he deeply regreted that he didn't just tell him his name was Stan, especially as Richie wouldn't stop singing 'That's Not My Name' on the way home.

"Fuck you Richie I actually met a decent person and because of you I didn't get a name" Stan muttered angrily.

"What do you mean you didn't get a name?" Richie asked and Stan glared at him.

"Well I didn't exactly get a face either...oh fuck"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shalom, welcome comrades. 
> 
> Those of you who've read MISTAKE will know this is my second Stenbrough book, if you haven't read it yet...get your ass out of here and experience that strange coping mechanism for It Chapter 2.
> 
> This has nothing to do with it, I'm just self-promting, cuz I is that hoe. This narrative is very different, in Stan's P.O.V because, I can do that and also the sarcastic, petty and overdramatic narrative with all those internal scenerios...that was Bill, only. Very different over here.
> 
> Please note that I have no idea if this will work, I just mess around and see what happens, it worked last time so....
> 
> The title, I just wrote that temporary cuz I was stuck, but then it felt wrong to change it...I learnt to love it, love is love. 
> 
> So about all this cynicsm of drinking, well I always hate writing party scenes because when I read them eberyone gets pissed after five minutes and everything goes to shit. And I'm like???? Is everyone a lightweight there, like I'm english and I live in a shit area, i've been drinking since I was fourteen so I thought I would give a more accurate insight, shit party drinks don't get you pissed properly, like we only just moved on to real drinks at sixteen. Ain't no one making bad decisions with your small cup of Smirdoff and lemonade🙄🙄
> 
> Thanks for listening to my lecture. 😂😂


	2. {Marriage Problems}

  
**S** tan hadn't been comitted to many things in life. There weren't many things that interested, long term and there sure as fuck wasn't anything that he was passionate about. Other than the word fuck he guessed.

He liked birds, but wasn't passionate. You had to have energy, for that kind of shit, but you see...Stan was too mentally and sleep deprived to deal with that kind of comittment to his mind. So when he asked Richie, about something or more accurately _someone_ he was curious about. You can imagine Richie wasn't going to take it lightly, or well for that manner.

"No I'm asking you, Stan, what the fuck? You barely even talk to us, how am I suppose to believe you are just could relate to them?" Richie whispered, not very quietly, causing him to be shushed by the maths teacher, probably thinking they were cheating in their stupid test. Even though Richie did well without revising, and Stan destroyed himself preparing for it. It wasn't like he would be doing anything better.

"I'm just interested, after you ditched me last night, you can't blame me for finding something better to do" Stan mumbled, without looking at him, he couldn't be detained again for a Richie exam related reason.

"I've already apologised for that-oh fuck we sound like an old married couple, I'm sorry wife, but I know you...you never get interested in people, unless they're insane, like me" Richie said with a small smile and Stan just rolled his eyes.

"Why am I the wife?And if you must know I sort of connected with them and had conversations that I never have with you or Bev...it's like your weird urge to be friends with Mike" Stan said, hoping to change the subject over to Richie.

"Petty move Stan. Fine, just because I'm desperate to know..." Richie began but trailed off when their teachet glared at him again.

"Why are you so desperare to know? You don't have to know aeverything about me?I am my own person...fuck we sound married again, I'm the husband!" Stan muttered, trying not to take out his frustration out on his test paper.

"I only want to be friends with Mike because he's friends with that Eddie kid" Richie said and Stan dropped his pencil.

"Eddie? As in Eddie that sita next to be in French? As in Eddie who you annoy the shit out of in Physics and he ended up stabbing you with a pencil?" Stan asked quickly and Richie noddef reluctantly "The Eddie that you're in love with?"

Richie's body tensed up, and his gaze wondered away from Stan's "The very same" He mumbled barely audible "That's what I've got for you..."

"I'll take that" Stan muttered reluctantly, lowering his head closer to Richie's ear. "I got talking with someone who thought the same way as me, I didn't see who it was, doesn't that seem a little mysterious?"

"Mysterious?" Richie repeated and Stan nodded, regretting he ever spoke at all "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, I want to find out who it was, like a little personal challenge, like my own mystery" Stan said and Richie scrunched up his test paper into a paper ball and throw it into the bin, when the teacher wasn't looking.

"Adn what am I supposed to do, whilst you're off flundering around with other men? Wait no, you know what? I'm owning it, Stanley Uris you are my fucking wife so we might as well get married right now!"Tragically Richie didn't whisper this and basically proposed to Stan, very loudly in the middle of silent classroom, during a maths test.

It was the worst thing on Stan's list of Richie related reasons to be put in detention for.

"Rich I'm going to fucking kill you" Stan hissed quietly, ignoring the various wolf whistles that surroubded him. "Maybe you could actually be useful and-"

"I've got it!Maybe I could actually be useful abd helo you with your personal challenge, you couldn't do it without me, I'm basically Agatha Christie" Richie said and Stan rolled his eyes yet again, _a new personal record._

"I'm pretty sure I could figure it out on my own, you'll just make it more difficult, I bet I would just solve it faster" Stan said and Richie narrowed his eyes at him.

"What are the stakes?" Richie said and Stan smirked at his confidence.

"Whoever finds him by the end of the year wins, loser has to pay for the winner's prom tickets and-"

"Will have to sing 'She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain' in the style of a rap artist on the stage" Richie added quickly, getting a little excited.

"Okay, done" Stan said quickly, secretly shaking Richie's hand beneath the desk. "You're going down my evil wife"

"In your dreams and if I'm going down I'm taking Stanthony jr with me" Richie said and Stan gasped.

"No-"

"Yes, he's your baby!" Richie said dramtically, a little too loudly again, causing the pair to get another detention and a wave of amused glares. Richie wasn't bothered, he just shrugged and said: "It's a date" to the teacher.

Stan just spent his detention figuring out if death would be an easier way out of this bet or not. But then realized no one would be able to appreciate his dark humour if he actually died.

He spent his second detention trying to remember everything he ever read from mystery novels, because there was no way he was going to loose this bet.

𓆲

"So...Mike, Mike Hanlon, Michael-"

"No it's just Mike" Just Mike said and Stan nodded awkwardly, as it turns out he was even worse at the social interaction thing than he originally thought.

Bev had invited Mike to sit with them at lunch the following day and Mike, being Mike was too kind to refuse. But despite Bev being the bestest friend he could ask for and Mike being the kindest, he still struggled.

"Mike...so...your name is Mike..." Stan began and Bev's milk cartan exploded as she squeezed it a little to tighlty. This was bad.

"I think we've already established my name Stan"Mike said and Stan held his fork tightly, scouting for a near by toaster.

"Look, remember that party at yours the other day?"Stan asked, clearing his throat and re-composing himself. 

"It would be weird if I didn't"Mike said kindly and Stan nodded.

"Do you, I don't know...keep a list or record of people you invite. You know so you can...give them party bags?" Stan said, his voice raising pitch with his lie.

"I know you have something going on with Richie, I'll tell you what I told him, I invite a couple of people, they invite there friends, but party bags is a good idea for next time thanks" Mike said and if Stan had ears on the top of his head they would've perked up at Mike's last words.

"Next time? You're having another party?"Stan asked quickly and Mike tried to hide his amusement at the excited boy and nodded.

"Like I have one every week, my place on friday, but you have to bring a drink or food. I can't afford to keep running these things on my own" He said, patting Stan's shoulder as he stood up. "If that will be all Stan I best get going, I have lacrosse, it was nice talking to you, ask Ben for my number"

As soon as Mike left Stan was hit in the head by Richie's apple. "What the fuck was that for Trashmouth?" Stan asked and Richie stuck his tongue out at him.

"You know what's it for, why don't you go after Mike? Your new best friend, send him bird gifs with his number" Richie pouted, Stan closed his eyes and sighed. He knew what this was about, it was more than Eddie. Richie had a wild heart and an even rogue mouth, which usually drived people away and Richie hated that, the idea that people may not like him, may leave him and if he were to disappear-no one would notice, no one would care. 

Stan guessed that made him prone to jealousy, if you can imagine. "Rich, I have a bet to win, I'm not wasting precious time on Mike" Stan said, knowing he'll only make things worse if he addresses the issue. Because if anything bad happened in his life, or to the people around him, they couldn't talk about it. Just move on, pretend it never happened. That was probably why he was so detatched from him emotions he concluded.

"You still coming over tonight?" Stan asked, changing the subject but reminding Richie he still wanted him. Richie grinned and nodded quickly.

"Well that was entertaining" Bev said, sipping he drink through her straw loudly. "I'm suprised you guys haven't been offered a reality tv show about your marital struggles" 

"Ha,ha Bev"Richie said, leaning over to steal one of her chips and dipped it in her milkshake, like a nonce. 

"We're not a married couple. I'm the husband!" Stan added quickly and Bev rolled her eyes, drawing her attention to someone behind Richie.

Stan pressumed it was her boyfriend Ben, so he focused his attention to his French book. It wasn't like Stan didn't like Ben, he thought he was the only person in this world who was perfecy for Bev. But it was still difficult, seeing Bev growing up, because it was just a reminder- a reminder of how little time he had with her left. No one stays friends after Derry, it was like everyone forget it even existed after you left.

"Oh hey" Bev said actually sounding suprised, she stood up, walking around the table to hug someone, before returning back to her seat, Stan felt someone sit opposite him, but didn't look up. Ben was nice to Stan and Stan struggled with people being nice to him, he need it was stupid, but not enough to feel his insides burn when someone complimented him.

"You okay? It's just Richie and Stan, they're calm" Bev said.

  
"T-T-Thanks B-Beverly" A voice said and Stan looked up slowley, his eyelids straining under the magnetic impulse that lured them towards two bottomless pits of melted sunlight that speckled beneath the dark pools of volcanic ash, hovering around the brim of a pair of ice pupils.

The billowing clouds of this volcanic ash enveloped him, sending sparks of burning heat beneath his skin.

He could feel his heart trying to fight it's way out of his chest. A current of electrical fire swept through his body, as the blue eyes pierced into his overflowing with waves of confusion and curiousity, sending a current of electricity across his skin.

"Bill..." Stan said, clearly. As if he hadn't fallen lost under his pressence.

Bill Denbrough, stuttering Bill if you asked Bowers, but then again Stan wouldn't do that and still be alive. Bill used to be a wonder according to Bev. That was the word she used, a wonder.

As if everything that ever flooded through him was embedded with sunlight, glistening. Like a paper boat, he'd float across all the dangers and darknes that contimanted the waters of the word, Bowers, stress, school. Small, compared to the water but brave. But then like all boats, there was a storm and he sunk under thr drain, never to be seem again.

It only took a small leak, a broken nail of sort. He drowned, under the grief of loosing his brother Georgie. He was never found, after a year and neither did Bill, he lost himself with Georgie. It was like everyone who ever felt grief or pain for his disappearance and inevitably forget, passed all of it to Bill, who let the pain soak him up, and whither him away, destroying the paper boat.

Bill only nodded in his direction, Stan didn't know what to do, what to say. He knew Bill wouldn't want him to be sympathetic, he had consumed enough pity in his life to consume.

"I'm Stan..." He said, reaching out for Bill's hand. Bill hand trembled with the contact, barely there as if he was preventing himself from growing close to anyone.

"Hi" Bill whispered, Stan looked across the table, frowning at the absence of Bill's lunch. Again he didn't mention it, as much as he wanted to. He didn't want to scare him off. _He's not a fucking cat._

"My dad always makes me these kosher sandwhiches, but being a unhealthy hoe, I eat Bev's chips instead today. I don't want to get in trouble and I'm full...would you mind helping me?" Bill's eyes always seemed wide and vunerable above the bags ubder his eyes, but they seemed even more so. He hesistated for a moment, biting his lip as his eyes darkened.

"Stan I would help I know how strict your dad is..." Bev lied, noting Stan's strange tactic. Stan's dad couldn't be cruel even if his life depended on it, he apologised to a chair when he walked into it the other day.

Bill picked up the sandwhich from Stan and ate it slowly, still a little suspicous. "So...what you doing this afternoon?" Stan asked and Bill stopped eating, glaring at him.

"What do you want?" Bill asked and Stan frowned, but then averted his gaze to Richie who looked too uncomfortable, like he was worried if he spoke he would hurt him. And for once Richie was wise.

"Marital problems" Stan said "I just have a little bet going on with Richie and since Bev is on his team and I'm...limited with friends, I was wondering if you wanted to help me?" Stan said, hoping no one would notice that his voice pitched high at the end of his sentence.

"I m-m-mean, it's n-n-not like I h-have anything b-better to d-do" He said, looking down at the table. "W-What are you u-up to?"

"We're going to go to Mike's party, we're trying to find someone"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the stranger at the party is Bill, before there is any confusion. It'll make more sense soon I hope. I'm so sorry about Georgie guys I know I kept him alive in the last book, but well I'm a terrible human being who has characters to develop. I'm thinking about bringing Betty, Rue and Conner back for this book, but I'm not sure...


	3. {Hiding Beneath The Party Lights}

**STAN** never wanted much. Nothing too much, by the age of fourteen he really just wanted to be fed, his family and to not be so lost. He guessed he was too broken to stop himself from disappearing, falling invisible in this world, he let it happen.

And he guessed, in some sort of fucked way he let his life conceal in such away that he needed someone to find him again. 

But when he was younger, he learned never to ask for anything, never to look for something else to save him, especially from himself. You couldn't grow up in Derry and believe something would, because if there really was someone here, watching and listening, caring. Everyone he knew would've been saved by now.

  
In conclusion:Stan's expectations for life was low, mainly due to being friends with Richie who had lowered his standards for friendships and the human species in general.

But that didn't mean Stan wasn't a little bit disappointed when Bill never got back to him about going to Mike's, because not matter how many times he got fucked over, it always hurt him a little when it happened again. He was used to the pain by now, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"Does he think I was joking? That I was going to hurt him?" Stan asked, leaning his head against the glass of the window, painting out a miserable face on the fog that rested on the glass. 

He heard Richie sigh, he was a well aware this was probably the eighteth conclusion he had come to. "I just wanted to help him"

"I know Stan, but maybe recruiting him for a bet wasn't the best option" Richie said calmly before aggressively honking at the driver infront and flipping them off. Richie suffered from mild road rage.

"I just didn't want to patronize him by treating him like a lost child...shit, what if I hurt him by not being sympathetic enough?" Stan said and he could _feel_ Richie roll his eyes. It was a gift, a useless one, but he still had it.

"Stan your mind works in such demented ways I'm grateful I have never seen more than I glimpse of it, what goes inside that head of yours Stan gives me nightmares" Richie said and Stan smirked, letting the cold essense of the glass to numb through his touch.

"It's a dark place"Stan muttered allowing the breaks of fog to swirl into a small picture of a fog.

"I have no doubt-hey wait, what have I told you about drawing on my windows...not after last time. If you wanted to give me a lesson about condensation you could of told me before your drew a dick on my front screen and it appeared again the next time it fogged up...my parents were there" Richie complained, tapping the side of the steering wheel irritably. 

Stan smirked "If we were friends since we were kids...would you have kept me around if you saw how I turned out?" 

Richie sighed, looking over to Stan, but the wonder that draped through his dark eyes meant that Stan didn't conprehend how dangerous it was for Richie not to be looking at the road. "I liked how you turned out, don't tell Bev, but you're my favourite person in this fucked up world no 'what ifs', I'm glad you're my friend. You did the best you could for Bill, that's what's important, that's you Stan, you try your best to help people" 

Stan smiled, one of those rare smiles that he had, one that only slipped through his lips when his heart would sink a little, into a pool of euphoria. Calm he was calm. "Are you going to try to win the bet tonight or are you going to spend the whole night flirting with Eddie?"

"I can multitask" Richie said with a mischievous grin and Stan rolled his eyes. No he couldn't, he couldn't even talk and drive at the same time. 

"Really, just how exactly are you planning on doing that?" Stan asked, quirking his brow in curiousity, well more concern, he hoped no one was going to get injured just because Richie decided to try and win a bet.

"Get you shitfaced" He said and Stan tried not to burst out laughing. 

"Not going to happen, you know shit party drinks aren't going to get me doing something stupid. But I appreciate the effort" Stan said and Richie rolled his eyes.

"That's why I got Mike to bring the good shit" Richie said gesturing to his bag, Stan opened it curiously to see to bottles of Smirdoff vodka...no not ice, the full shit and a bottle of whisky. 

"Why would you reveal your plan to me?"Stan asked, not really feeling the relief of a gurantee he was going to win this bet. 

"Because you're stubborn, you say you can beat me no matter how much you drink" Richie said with a grin and Stan sat back in his chair.

"Well now that you've told me I won't..." Stan said folding his arms and giving Richie a smug look, which only seemed to amuse him more.

"I have no doubt that you will, I'm sure you'll feel even more clever if you beat your wasted best friend who is also trying to seduce another boy, add it to the wall of trophies" Richie said and Stan could feel his blood boil beneath his skin. 

"I know what you're doing" Stan said reaching for the bag again "I'll have one drink...just one for now so we'll be have the same problems...no excuses" 

Stan opened the bottle cap of the whisky, letting the strong smell scold his nostrils. "I mean how strong could it be?" Richie teased.

"I mean it's not like one sip is going to make me want to climb the bar and test if I can fly" Stan said and Richie laughing with him.

𓆲

"EVERYONE GET READY IMMA SHOW YOU ALL HOW I CAN FLY!" Stan shouted, climbing clumsly onto the bar, he knocked a few empty bottles of the counter with his feet as he stumpled backwards.

Stan intially stuck to his word about not drinking anymore but then Mike  
passed him something that smelt like pain and regret and Stan felt like he needed something to balance out the cynacism and sarcasm that flooded his bloodstream.

He had danced with Bev a bit and talked to her for a while as she was the only other person he liked here, but eventually he was left on my on again as Ben started talking to her and she got all giggly and excited, inviting him upstairs.

What was so exciting about upstairs?

Oh, OH. That's what. Yuck.

He revieved a loud cheer from everyone around him after he made the announcement and that was enough to motive him to jump, with the adrenaline spiralling through his body he threw himself of the bar. He did fly, just not upwards and almost proved it as well if it wasn't for a certain someone who he landed on and knocked over.

"Shit, are you alright?" A familar voice said, beneath him. Stan rolled himself off of the squashed boy and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling backwards a little bit as be did so. 

"Yeah I'm fine I just dove off the bar..." Stan said looking back at his launch pad, hazely, his vision a little clouded due to the lights and the vodka.

"Good thing you crashed into me them, a comfortable crash mat" The boy said and Stan frowned. 

"No you prevented me from showing everyone I could fly" Stan mumbled causing his crash mat to laugh softly, even through the influence Stan knew it was a sound he never wanted to stop playing.

"I'm sorry..." The boy laughed, capturing Stan's arm quickly when he began to fall slip again. "How much of a disaster are you?"

Stan's heart sunk into his highly intoxicated stomach. "Yes" Stan breathed and he could feel the boy tense in confusion. "Disaster...that's me from the other night? The last time, at the bar?"

"Oh yeah the boy who knows all the book clichés" The boy clicked his fingers as he remembered, helping Stan sit down at the bar, passing him a drink of water. "Well that was a close one, if I hadn't bumped into you there the next time I would've seem you would've been your funeral...what a weird way to go out"

"I always thought I would be killed by the hands of my own clone" Stan said groaning as he rested his head on the bar.

He felt the boy tilt his head back and press the cup against his lips, heling Stan drink the water. "If you had a clone you would've had to make sure people knew it wasn't you, like tattoo something on them" 

"Good point" Stan muttered, "So...how have you been since the last week?"

"I mean good until we started the small talk" The boy said with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

"Ok, then serious question why do you think Mike really holds all these parties?" Stan asked and he felt the boy shuffle a little closer.

"What do you think it's like a Gatsby situation?There's a huge secret rather than he's just a nice guy?" The boy queered and Stan nodded in agreement, but then realized he couldn't see him.

"I wonder what his Nick is" He said, looking around him at the dissolution of coloured blurs. 

"You mean his Daisy?" The boy corrected him and Stan couldn't stop himself from laughing. 

"Have you read the book?" Stan asked. 

"I literally study it for English Lit" The boy said and Stan grinned. _Ding Ding, another clue for me, he's an English nerd, in your face Richie. Wait, hang on, there's an easier way to do this._

"Who even are you?" Stan asked and the moments of silence stretched out around them.

"Rather not tell, I'm not good with attaching myself with people, not after...let's just go exploring, find his Nick" The boy said, scrapping his stool against the floor as he stood up. He took Stan by the hand and they walked up the stairs.

Exploring the rooms was like playing a very horrifying game of Russian roulette.

After two more girls sobbing, some knobs sniffing summat and the beginning of a sexual act, Stan opened the fourth door to find Henry Bowers stropping in a small's child bedroom sweeping an entire Sylvanian family across a shelf in a fit of rage.

They quickly retreated, hoping not to be next and eventually found an empty room, which happened to be Mike's room. "I feel like an actualt stalker" The boy said and Stan smirked, his eyes captured by the amount of pictures with friends that Mike had.

"Hey look at this Disaster boy" He said, drawing Stan's attention away from the photos and towards the desk.

"Looks like he's been writing poetry...who's Rue?" The stranger asked.

"Some girl in our year, she's brillaint, I guess Mike's got a thing for her...but I also guess we should go before we ruin his privacy much more...and hey you have a name for me and I don't have one for you?" Stan asked. 

"I'm sorry if I'm the more creative element to our dynamic" He said as the walked back into the hallway. 

"Nah it's about the same Crash Mat" Stan said, biting his tongue as he did so. Of all the clever responses he could've of given it had to be _that_ one. _I'm never drinking again._

Stan sat down on one of the sofa's, next to his Crash Mat. "Oh I guess I'm mistaken, you clearly are the more creative one" He said sarcastically.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you" Stan said with a smirk and he felt the boy getting closer to him.

"Oh really and what does? You wouldn't know you can't even see me and I can't see you" Crash Mat said and Stan could feel his breath slip through his smirk and onto Stan's lips.

"No attatchments" Stan said and he felt a little bit of pride when he heard the other boy's breath escape him for a moment. 

He found himself leaning closer, closer and closer, like no matter how close he was, he was always too far away. He felt his lips brush against his and Stan quickly pulled himself back, he didn't need to see to notice the hurt that struck him.

"I'm too sober for this" Stan said leaning to his side to pinch someone else's drink and chugged it quickly. "Okay" 

His lips fell comfortably on Stan's, grip firm on his waist, the pressure dripping pools of electricty beneath his skin.

Time was nothing. Seconds were days, were years, were the breaths that caught between their lips and the bite of Stan'a fingernails against his palms, the scrape of teeth against his lower lip and the warm slide of a tongue against mine. They kissed like this was the last time he ever would, like his world stopped and started with Stan's lips.

It was affection, finally, just something to make him feel something, feel alive, like he was actually here in this world rather than watching his life fall about from the outside. Maybe it was an unhealthy coping mechanism but he didn't care.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, with enough friction to create a hearbeat between them. A molten fibre would spiral beneath Stan's skin, every time Crash would reach his hand under a new piece of clothing, his touch slipping further beneath his shirt. 

Eventually Stan dragged his lips away from his, leaning his head against his still. "Fuck"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took ages but exams are here again, I have a-level mock and my AS like in a few weeks so fun times pour moi. Thanks for reading xx


	4. {Broken}

  
**S** tan knew he was fucked. He really didn't want to be saying that so often now as he used the word fuck so much, by comparison it was.loosing it's meaning.

There was a huge difference you see, between 'Fuck I failed that screenshot' and 'Fuck I had a heated moment with a stranger.

He groaned as he eventually managed to grasp the strength the pull himself out of bed, his head burning with the nightmare that was the previous night. _So this is the conseqences of drinking alcohol_ He thought to himself as he dragged himself to the bathroom, trying not to vomit on the stairs. _Hangovers aren't aesthetic as films say they are._

He purposefully kept the light of as he (barely) made it to the bathroom, so he would accidently catch his hideous face in passing and collapse in shock. He tried not to pass out as he pulled his shirt over his head, his complete lack of stability becoming an issue, as there was no way in fuck he was shouting for help if he fell now, he'd rather die slowly on the wet tiled floor with the towels than having to be dragged out by a team of paramedics who would also have to de-tangle him from his clothes.

However he confirmed his first theory that his brain must've of been replaced with a broken printer as he broke his first bathroom rule (oh yes they're many, feel free to pre-order Stanley's book 'Crisis On The Toilet' for me details) as he caught his reflection in the dirty mirror. This time he didn't almoat faint due to the sheer horror of seeing the *shudder* _pale_ the *shudder* _backne_. No it was worse, much worse. Printed across his skin were several numbers, a phone number beneath the purple bruises on his chest, stomach and neck.

Stan's initial wasn't as calm as you'd hope. This was a perfect fuck moment on Stan's biggest fuck ups in his life, this was a FUCKKKKKK I GOT A SHIT TATTOO WHILST DRUNK!

Only to later realize, it was infact a sharpie and that was infact a phone number. See Stan was a little slow this morning and by the time he had put two and two together the shower had already flooded. _Crashmat had been smart._

Unless this was another Richie joke, which by nature of being his friend was always a possibility. With every breath of his life he found himself asking, was this a Richie joke? Locked out of your house? Is this a Richie joke? Suprise test? Richie...is that you behind the curtain? A weird virus sends the world into chaos? Richie, get out from there I know it's you.

Conflicted with his last two functioning brian cells, Stan knew there was only one person he could help...also his parents were dragging him to see them anyway, he might as well kill two fish with one stone (birds are beautiful creature compared to those gilled demons, that he's hated evee since his pet parrot died when it ate his dad's goldfish straight for the tank. From that day onwards he vowed to avenge...Bessy)

𓆲

Stan could hear the 'Final Countdown' By Europe blasting through the corridor as he got closer to the room.

He opened the door revealing a very old woman sitting on her bed, looking like she was packing a bag and wearing all black.

"Tom, thank Europe you're here" The woman said staring directly at Stan.

"No, it's your grandson Nan" Stan said,.

"Who?" She asked, a scowl on her face.

"Stanley" He said taking his coat off.

"Oh piss off" She said looking at Stan angrily. Stan sighed taking a seat on the bed which had pigs and sheep on it.

"Wait you can tell me where my Tom is. Where's Tom?" She demanded.

"He's dead" Stan said.

"DEAD?" Nan asked her mouth opening wide "For fuck's sake" she muttered "Bloody useless twat, he is"

"Erm what are you packing for?" Stan asked and she leaned forward.

"I'm escaping Peanut" She lowered her voice "They're keeping me here against my will and have killed Tom and they're going to kill me too" She said and Stan nodded, he loved his Nan, she used to be a great laugh when he was younger, but sadly when she got dementia, her spirit started to whither away.

What Stan didn't love so much was the nickname, his fucking six when he pulled a tantrum when he found out that there was peanuts in his chocolate bar...fucking six, Stan never knew why his Nan would never foeget it. She was happy forgetting that she had a family, but _that_ he would never live down. Maybe because she knew how much it pissed him off.Like why couldn't he have been a more exquisite nut...like a almond or cashew

"Do you want any tea?" Nan's carer said , not really taking the escape plan seriously at all.

Stan nodded polietly "Careful" Nan said, as Stan brought the cup to his lips. "I think they've poisioned it" He smiled polietly and put it back down.

"Nan, I need some help" Stan said, captivating her attention almost instantly. 

"Can't say I'd be of any use Peanut, but if my advice goes wrong, please remember that. I can't be involved with another law suit" She said and Stan shuck his head. 

"It's fine, you'll be of more help than I will" Stan sighed heavily, looking at his hands to dry and dilute the awkwardness of his next words "It's about a boy..."

"Is it that loud kid with the glasses? " Nan asked and Stan tried not to burst out laughing.

"What? Richie? No he's just my wife, no this is someone else" Stan said, unable to the stop the grin from slippibg through his lips.

"Five words" She said simply, drawing Stan's attention "Keep. It. In. Your. Pants"

Stan choked on his tea. "Nan!"

"Don't die becauae I was honest with you love, no good can come from lusting over a boy. You lot skip all the flirting and talking and go straight to the bedroom" She said and Stan prayed that he would some how figure out how to spontaneously combust.

Sadly, he didn't. "That wasn't what I was talling about...there's nothing like _that_ going on, I barely know the kid. Really I don't know who they are and what they look like..."

Nan narrowed her eyes at him "This may be my old age here, but I'm confused? Is this someone in your head? A book?" 

"No!" Stan said quickly before sighing, resting his head in his hands. "I've been talking to this boy...at parties but each time I've been too drunk or it's too dark and I never know who it is, I just like the way he speaks...shit what if he's a nonce?" 

Nan thought for a moment, "Well I think it would be difficult for him to get into the party if he was a forty-year-old Stanley. But falling in love with a voi-"

"Not his voice! And I'm not in love...I'm just curious, of his words.It's like, I don't talk about that kind of stuff with anyone else" Stan said and Nan smirked.

"Well thanks Stan I'm fattered" She chuckled and Stan rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean" He said. "I just can't figure out who it is and I have a bet with Richie so I have to find out. But all I have on my side is that poor Denbrough kid"

"You sure that's all you have?" She said and Stan bit his lip, his skin burning under the weight of the sharpie on his skin.

"I have a phone number" He whispered, hesistant.

"That's more than nothing" Nan observed and Stan groaned, resting his head in his hands once more.

"It's like...if I don't use it, I don't have to worry anymore, I don't have to complain. There's no mystery, I win the bet, boom, all over" Stan said "But..."

"You don't want it to be over" She said "You like the element of mystery, some excitement in your life and your scared, of who it might be"

"Basically" Stan muttered. "When they find out who I am...it's over, I'll never talk to them again"

"Then don't let them know" She said and Stan frowned. "Kill two birds with one stone...wait no, you would never hurt birds, just don't reveal each others identities"

Stan rhought for a moment, tapping his fingers systematically on his chin. "That's...not too bad of an idea, thanks Nan" Stan said standing up and getting ready to leave.

"Oh and Stan?" She called after him and he turned to face her.

"Yeah?"

"Remember to keep it in your pants" She said and Stan instantly groaned before leaving the room.

Anyone who was unfortunate enough to know Stan personally would know that he didn’t follow advice because if he did, he would have nothing to complain about, and there lies the moment when he lose the only aspect of his personality. 

He never really gave advice either, it was a good thing too, he only use that would give was if the government needed any ideas for population control. If he was wbored and wanted to give advice, to you know, destroy humanity, he'd say: 

Take a note #1: Don’t take advice, because then you won’t be able to take full credit when your life is completely fucked. You’ve got to achieve something in life. 

But on this rare occasion in his life, he decided to take some advice, because if he was going to go down...he could settle a lawsuit later. He waited until the evening to do it, ignoring the epic sense of realism that poubded through his chest and made him feel utterly sick he decided...to text him.

**Hi**.

No wait that sounded weird, _how do you just start a text?_

  
**Hey remember when we kissed?**

_No that's so too forward, maybe I should be more romantic._

**O Crash mateo, crash mateo**

_Fuck me, I need to be put down._ Stan sighed heavily, closing his eyes before just rhinking logically and rationally for once in his life.

**Hi Crash Mat, it's me.**

Before Stan could over think, yet again, his phone instantly _pinged_ with a notification.

**Hey Disaster boy.**

Stan tried to calm his breathing, _shit he has fast replies? He's a keeper._

**That was quick :-0**

**Haha, I'm always on my phone. I have nothing better to do😂I usually have slow replies to make it look like I'm a busy person, but I'll make an exception for you 😏.**

Stan's heart burned through his chest, sending molten blood through his veins. Stan smiled as he typed.

**That's nice to know, do you ignore a lot of people?.**

**Ah I see, yes I am single Disaster boy, don't worry. They're arem't many people in my life, just me and next door's Netflix password. 😁**

Stan's heart flutterd in his chest and he couldn't pretend it wasn't there.

**Yeah I wasn't sublte was I?**   
**Maybe that's like my thing now. I'll try it out *clears voice and alongside it my premature manhood* So what's a boy like you doing without anyone to talk to other than a natural disaster?**

**😂😂😂Very funny, well let's just say somewhere, along the way I got a little lost and pushed away any good person in my life.**

Stan frowned, his heart sinking into his stomach. The boy just seemed...to perfect, too good to experience any harm in this world, wjo evsr heard of stabbing an angel? Stan hadn't until this moment.

**I'm sorey about that, whatever you've had to go through. I'm not one with much emotional support, but if you want to rant to a stranger. By defintion I am the complaint centre.**

**Well thanks I guess, I'm uncomfortable with emotions. But complaining? I feel like that's my definition😏😁.**

**Really? Thought you didn't have anyone to complain to?**

**Hahaha, so of I type complaining until Google, it'll come up with your name.**

**If you really wanted to know who I was go for it.**

There were several agonizing minutes that passed, with Stan being tortured with the aheer pain of being left on read, until finally, finally he got a response. 

**I'd rather not, if that's ok? Not let us know who we are yet. It's makes me feel a little uncomfortable and I feel safe around u because u don't know who I am so u can't hurt me.**

**Crash Mat, as long as you're not a nonce, you should know, I would never hurt you, I don't think I'm physically capable of doing so, I promise.**

**Everyone does eventually.**

This time it was Stan's turn to leave him alone on read, unsure what to do or say. 

**Goodnight Disaster Boy.**

Stan frowned, disappointed a little by there short conversation until he realized it was kind of his fault. 

**Sweet dreams, Crash Mat.**

And with the lingering dots of the tuping symbol, eventually disappearing into the bright screen Stan couldn't help but smile a little as he closed his eyes, hoping he'd dream of a mysterious boy with beautiful words.

"I promise, I'd never hurt you" He whispered into the cold air of that foggy night, before allowing the night to pull him into the beautiful chaos of a new dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooo sorry for the really late update but like everything is so weird rn. School's been cancelled, I won't be taking my exams now? All my revision has gone to nothing? And I'm not allowed out my house to sew my friends? All my hw is piling up, but I'm glad I finally managed to update 😁


	5. {Can't Remember To Forget You}

  
Stan had never spent so much time on his phone, not even when he went through a strange Youtube conspiracy phase.

But despite his hand almost been branded by the shape of his phone, they still hadn't managed to discuss, the _incident_ as Bev called it, or t  
he _kiss and miss_ as Richie called it. Stan wasn't sure which one be prefered. Stan hadn't felt a connection like this since he got full wifi bars on holiday, he also knew that was a shit comparison but that was truely an emotional moment for him.

Which said a lot more about his life than the Crash Mat lad.

He knew, the more time that went on, the more they texted, the more he wanted to find out who this person was...and the more he didn't want them to find out who he was. He also had the bet with Richie, which was starting to worry him so much, that he decided to call his team up.In which included, himself, Bev, Mike (who had finally agreed to join after Stan promised he'll watch some tv show he was obsessed with) and Bill Denbrough, who still had no idea what was going on as he kept skivving the meetings at the last minute.

Richie on the othet hand, managed to pester Ben and even managed to get Eddie to agree to help him, which was a miracle in itself. But Stan knew Eddie was rarely let out of the house and was desperate for an excuse, despite all of his flaws Richie was a brilliant charmer and could convince anyone of anything.

"Ok, so what have we got so far?" Bev asked, standing in front of the whiteboard, nominating herself as group leader, which was the only things that made perfet sense in Stan's fucked up world. _hehe Planet Stan? Stan's Realm? Oh wait_ _Stanverse-_

"Hello, Stan?" Bev asked, snapping him out of his daydreams, he cleared his throat awkwardly and opened his notebook.

"The suspects in question are: Conner Bowers, he was at the bar the first night, Eddie Kasprak, the biggest English lit nerd that we know of and Vic...because I don't know many people at our school as it turns out" Stan said, twirling his pen inbetween his teeth, nervously.

"Ok...what about you Michelangelo?" Bev asked, writing down the names on the board.

Mike chose not to respond to the nickname "I've got Jordan in our Physics class, who I've seen eyeballing Stan on numerous occasions and Will Byers who has asked if I was friends with you a couple of times"

Bev nodded, writing down the names quickly. Stan tried to hide his crimson cheeks under his turtle neck, which he had worn deliberately to hide his neck from his parental unit. He never knew this list could possibly be something that could be added to, he thought it would be pretty empty.

"I can clear the Jordan thing up" Stan said "He's really pissed at me every since I accidently dropped my lunch on him at the beginning of the year and he had to wear clothes from lost property for school picture day" Stan said and Bev nodded, trying not to laugh as she remembered.

"He's been lanning his revenge ever since" Bev said, crossing his name of the list.

"So how are we going to do this? Draw names out of a hat? Order of preference?" Mike asked.

"How about we just work our way through systematically? We'll add names as we go, if we have to. This shouldn't take long" Stan said, closing his notebook and standing up.

"So, how much do we know about Conner Bowers?" Bev asked, meeting Stan's gaze at the board.

𓆲

At this moment in his life, Stan really felt like he was on Disney channel, as he, Mike and Bev observed Conner Bowers in the hallway, by hiding behing a classroom door, head- stack-style. 

"So apparently, Conner Bowers came out last year after he finally managed to ditch Henry's goones and befriended Richie" Mike said, pretending to make binoculours with his hands.

"I still don't like him very much after what he did to Richie the first time they met" Bev said, resting her hands on the top of Mike's head.

"Didn't he get you cupcakes for you birthday?" Stan asked.

"Yes...and I ate them, but I was entirely offended by them" She said and Stan tried not to laugh too loudly to draw attention to them.

"Okay, apart from the arcade scandal, we know that he runs the anti-henry society in the school and he gave me a discount for the merch earlier this year, so I'd say he's generous and he sits next to Stan sometimes, they're friendly but not friends"

"I've seen him at the library a couple of times" Bev said "Maybe he's secretly an English nerd as well"

"Well I guess there's only one way to find out" Mike said, retreating their spy position.

"Fight!" Bev cheered, throwing her arms in the air and Mike rolled his eyes.

"Nooo...we have to just talk to him and get him to reveal whether or not he is Stan's boy" Mike said with a smirk. "The Meverly way"

"That sounds digusting, what is that?" Stan asked and Mike fained hurt.

"It's only the two greatest interrogators of all time's team name" Bev said, giving Mike an awkward handshake which they tried to come up with on the spot.

"W-W-W-What are you d-d-doing?" The unexpected voice of, Bill Dembrough of all people startled them, causing all three of them to jumo back slightly.

"Oh hi Bill" Bev said, with her usual friendly smile that was Stan's only reason for being religous. Yes there was a god, and their name was Beverly Marsh. "We're just stalling Conner Bowers"

"H-H-He doesn't d-do merch r-requests a-anymore, y-you won't be able to b-bribe h-him" Bill said and Stan shook his head.

"That's not what we're trying to to, we're trying to get him to reveal something" Stan said, a little concerned with the way Bev and Mike were whispering up a plan.

"Don't you worry Romeo" Bev said pincing his cheek, causing him to frown. "Leave this to us"

"Bev and I are experts in the delicate and fine arts of interrogation" Mike said 

  
"Infiltration" Bev added.

"And suspicion, we are...Marsh and Hanlon, interogation extraordinaire! Wait no dope detectives wait no-" Mike said and Stan rolled his eyes.

"Will come up with the name later, now we need to focus on the theme song-" Bev said.

"Or you know, interogating Conner" Stan said and Bev grinned.

"Right you are" She said, wrapping her arm aeoubd Mike.

  
Bith Stan and Bill stared at them as the walked up to Conner. "Don't ask" Stan said "I can't help you once you know"

"Oh hi guys are you interested in joining our campaign for- Conner began, greeting them with a smile but was quickly cut off by Bev.

"Alright, Conner, we can do that the easy way or the hard way..." She said, leaning against rhe lockers. "Tell me what it was exacrly you were doing in that library last week or I swear I will skin you alive and-"

"Hey, wait a minute! It's my turn to be bad cop!" Mike said, and Bev instantly groaned.

"Uh, can we talk about this later? You're kind of ruining my vibe here!" She said and Mike shook his head.

"No, we should talk about this now" He said, folding his arms and Bev rolles her eyes.

"Mike, not in the front of the suspect!" She hissed gesturing to Conner, who just looked really confused.

"If not now, when?" He mused.

"Okay, fine. You wanna do this here, right now? You're always bad cop. I'm always good cop. Someone else should have a chance to be bad viking!" She said, turning to her back on their 'suspect' to face Mike.

"Hey, you were bad cop last time!" Mike said.

"No, you threatened the suspect with a baseball bat and I offered the suspect cookies" She said, grabbing Conner who had tried to escape when they weren't looking.

"That's not how I remember it"He said resting his hands on his chin.

" Every time, Mike, you do this every time! You take over my interrogations and ruin them" Bev said, leaning against the lockers, mardy.

"W-What a-are they t-trying to get out of t-this?" Bill asked.

"They're trying to see if he's an English nerd" Stan said, not taking his gaze of the chaos that was unfolding.

"Alright I-I'm ending t-this" He said, walking over to the interogation before Stan could protest. "Hi C-Conner"

"Hey Bill I'm so confused right now..." Conner said, looking around him, a little worried.

"I-It's alright I-I've got this" Bill said turning to face Bev and Mike. "C-Conner sits n-next to me i-in History , h-he does m-my h-history work and I d-do his English work b-because he hates it s-so much. He i-isn't a H-History nerd...d-detectives" 

Stan was sure if Bill ha d a micorphone right now, he would've dropped it.

He walked back to Stan, leaning against the wall next to him with a bored expression on his face. 

"I guess we can scribble Conner off the list" Bev said, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck.

"Thanks for that Bill" Stan said and he gave him a small nod. "So you...erm like English?" He nodded again.

Stan looked around him, trying to think of something else to say. "We're going to the Barrens...you know that café after school, you could come with us, like a thank you sort of thing" 

Bill thought for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. " I guess so".

𓆲

Bill seemed to be uncomfortable in any social setting, Stan had noted, especially outside of school. It was although he hated big crowds, as it was easy to get lost in them, but hated being alone in an allmost empty café even more. 

Bev and Mike easily fuelled conversations, managing to subtly include Bill every now and again to make him feel a little included, but no too much to make him feel unconfortable.

He was still distant, that's what he also noticed, always staring out if the window, daydreaming, as if he was imagining a different storyline, a different world in the same place he was sitting in.

And Stan honestly thought that was simply beautiful.

"You d-d-don't talk m-much"Bill observed, when the two were left alone, as Bev and Mike went to give their empty drink glasses to the waiter behind the counter.

Stan snapped out of his daydreaming trance. "Neither do you" Stan pressed and Bill just shrugged.

"I don't have anything to say" He said, looking into his vanilla milkshake that he hadn't touched. 

Stab rested his head in the table, looking up at Bill. "I like listening to what others have to say, other people make me smile, my thoughts don't, I like it when people make me laugh" He said honestly. "Everyone has somethings important to say, you've just got to be able to listen"

Bill drew his eyes away from his millshake and for once, he actually looked Stan in the eyes. Her eyes were fire in water, they sparkled like storm clouds right before lightning hit. Clouds of grey and blue threatened floods and fury while pupils dilated in passion, eyelashes catching the raindrops the tears that Stan hoped he'd never see fall.

His eyes were the ocean, so full of life yet so uncertain. The blue-green hue carried his emotional currents, and before Stan could breathe he knew he was drowning in them.

But falling deep into his eyes, it seemed to Stan that he was falling into the ocean, and looking up into the sky, Bill's eyes were like the stars he'd see in that sky. The way they drew him in to explore the swirling emotion held in their depths. The black of his pupil was surrounded by a ring of jagged silver fire swallowed by sapphire blue.

Simply, breathtaking. That was what Bill seemed to be, a wonder.

"I t-t-think you s-should speak m-more" Bill said and Stan raised his eyebrow "I l-like the w-way you say things" 

A small smile slipped through Stan's lips as he looked down at his almost empty milkshake.

"We're going to head out" Bev said, who hadn't returned in a while, which was little weird.

"What, why?" Stan asked.

Mike looked a Bev awkwardly "We've got some pigeons...to teach how to tap dance" He said quickly and Bev nudged him.

"You guys stay until you've finsihed we'll see you at school" She said, giving them a huge grin. 

"Enjoy some time...alone"Mike saide with grin, becire being dragged away by Bev.

"Well that was weird" Stan luaghed awkwardly, feeling a little empty without anyone else to listen to, a little alone.

Bill gave him a small smile but continued to stir his milkshake with his straw. "Do you not like it?" Stan asked and Bill just shrugged.

"I-I'm just n-not in the m-mood" He said and Stan nodded. Bill was never in the mood.

"So what to you do?" He asked and Bill raised his eyebrow again, being part of his only four facial expressions he seemed to aqquire.

"I r-r-read" He said after a while.

"What sort of books?" Stan asked and Bill frowned.

"L-L-Look, I appreciate t-the effort" Bill said, looking deep into Stan's eyes. "But I d-d-don't want y-your pity"

"That isn't what's happening here Bill" Stan said "I promise, you know I'm not a big talker but I'm curious. What is it that you like to do other than read?" 

" I l-l-like to w-write" He said quietly " And I l-like music"

Stan looked over to the mini radio on their table, placing the required silver coins in to change the song and play it louder. "Like this?" Bill nodded. "I love this song" Stan said, swinging a little in his seat to Come On Eileen.

"W-What are y-you d-doing?" Bill whispered and Stan shrugged.

"You don't like dancing?" He asked and Bill rolled his eyes.

"That's n-not dancing. I l-live dancing, b-but not in p-public, I-I'm so scared of e-e-embarassing myself" Bill said and suddenly Stan had a Richie moment, which he was pretty sure meant he should rip out his brain and through it in the nearest bin, but he liked this one.

Stan continued to shake his arms weirdly, humming along to the song. Bill's eyes widened as Stan decided to stand up and dance terrible on purpose. "Trust me Bill, you're dancing can't get much worse than this" Stan said as he stood on the table, drawing everyone's attention on himself as he did the hustle. Bill buried his head in his hands, cringing whist laughing.

Luckily for stan, the lady behind the counter found this very amusing and danced along with Stan on the floor in front of him. After a few moments of hesistation, the limited people in the cafe began to dance on the dance floor, this didn't mean Stan was going to stop embarassing himself.

_Shit_ he thought _what have I become?_

"Everyone my friend Bill over there is with me tonight" He said, when he was on the counter opposite him, he pointed over at Bill who had fallen off his seat in embarasment. "Anyone fancy helping me getting him to join us"

After a few moments of Bill, laughing on the floor, hiding from the idea of joining his worst nightmare, he evebtually gave in to the somewhat peer pressure. He stood on the table opposite Stan, giving a small bow when he recieved a cheer and began dancing as terribly as Stan. 

With the eveing blending into swirls of laughter and terrible singing, swapping partners and swinging around, Stan eventually drifted onto the same table as Bill and it was although all the darkness that burned through Bill had dissolved through his laughter as they spub each other round at the same time. Chaotic, that was it, that was the word. 

It was perfect chaos. 

The colours that reflected from the streets outside moved together, perfectly, dimming out the world around them. 

And when the night finally did come to close, the sing, the dance, Bill's milkshake, they went there seperate ways with nothibg more than a soft whisper: 'Thanks Stanley' 

And for once in Stan's life, he finally felt that he had a moment, a moment in his life that could writen down a thousand different times in a thousand different ways, a book that would make others shaken with awe. 

Stan felt, calm. 'Oh fuck' He whispered to himself on the way home. "What have I gotten myself into?"


	6. {Anger Issues}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning: substance abuse, anger etc

  
"Alright gays" Bev said, pacing up and down the room with a cigarrette between her fingers. "It's time for suspect number two"

"Eddie? The person who helped Richie on his search for himself? I'm not sold" Mike said hogging the biscuits that _Stan_ had bought with _Stan's money,_ from Conner's fundraiser, which if Stan could remember correctly, was funding a billboard with embarassing pcitures of Henry on it.

"Ok, well we're out of suspects...shit what if this lads a nonce and they don't go to our school?" Bev asked and Mile dropped the biscuit from his mouth.

"No I'm pretty sure they're our age" Stan said quickly, captivating all the attention in the room.

"And how exactly are you so sure of this Stan?" Mike asked, trying to provoke the same sense of intimidation as Bev's glare but his insinuating voice was too high pitch.

"Because...I may or may not know his...how do I phrase the next words without you guys losing it...build" Stan said, whispering the latter, there was a moment of silence before both Mike and Bev jumped onto his bed.

"Stanley Uris...did you shag a stranger?" Bev asked simply, just reciting her thoughts like that wouldn't send Stan into cardiac arrest.

"What? No?We kissed, and there were like...touchy feely stuff as well but that was it" Stan said quickly, his cheeks burning crimson, and if you didn't expect Mike and Bev to laugh at this, you had too high expectations for them.

"Touchy feely stuff?" Mike repeated and Bev had rolled off the bed, on the floor cackling. "Oh Stan I want you to re-write 50 shades of grey"

"Or teach sex ed" Bev added between breaths of laughter.

"Narrate animal planet with all the mating" Mike added causing them to burst out laughing again.

"I hate you both...you should start your own fucking stand-up" Stan said but this seemed to set them off more.

"Ok, ok..." Bev said, calming down, breathing heavily. But when she made eye contact with Mike again they bursted out laughing all over again.

"So what is your plan? We've run out of suspects" Bev said, wiping away a tear from her eye.

"We just need to know more about him to get more suspects...Mike what are your plans tonight?"Stan asked.

"Well I sas going to hire out an ice cream van and settle my beef with Richie on whether or not a tricycle with fire exstinguisher jet engines would beat a an ice cream van at our diy Mario Kart course" Mike said simply.

"Ok...do you think perhaps you can do that outside whilst hosting a party at your house?" Stan asked and Mike thought for a moment, usibg the biscuits as extra support for his brain power.

"Yeah I guess I could" Mike said and Stan grinned.

"I need you both sober though tonight, just in case..." Stan trailed off causing them bith to grin.

"Oh we get it don't worry..." Bev began, her grin growing a little too melicous for Stan's liking. "Not only are me and Mike great detectives but we're also brilliant wing women"

"Oh yeah" Mike said.

"Oh no" Stan said shaking my head quickly. "No, no, no, no...I don't need wing women, I'm fine"

"What? We're the best wing women out there" Mike said. "And "I'm fine" for you seems to translating to: 'I fancy a boy who I don't even know what he looks like'"

"From over here it seems like you need a wingwoman, co-pilot and flight attendent" Bev said, counting on her finger to emphasise her point.

"Yeah, and I'm the flight attendent" Mike said and Stan sighed, he knew there was no getting out of this one...his only hope was the ice-cream van/tricycle buisness would end in a horrible clash and hospitalize them both...but he knew if he said that outloud he would be sent back to therapy. Which was the only reason why he said "Fine"

And he sort of wished he didn't say "What's the worst that could happen?"Because for some reason Bev and Mike took that as a fucking challenge.

**𓆲**

This time, Stan was going to stay sober. That was what he promised himself...and no this wasn't going to be like other times he said that, times had changed, Stan was on a mission and he wasn't going to fall back to his old ways. His old ways being of course, as of last week. 

He pushed passed the large crowds, who all seemed to be Mike's bestfriends as he had at least a twenty minute conversation with each and every one of them...Stan on the other hand couldn't even have that long of a conversation with his own relatives. 

  
When he managed to find the only free parking space in the room, he leaned against the wall and turned his phone on.

**Hey Crashmat where**  
**r u?**

**Hahhah wouldn't you like to know?🤭**

**Yes, I would actually, that**  
**is why I asked.**

**I'm hiding from uuuu😢😤**

**Wait no wrong emoji me keyboard fuzzy🤔😂😂😳**

**Have you been drinking?**

**What no! I'm fineeeee.**  
**Hey Conner I think he bought it hehehe👏😱✌😜**

**You're texting instead**  
**of talking? Wait, you're with**  
**Conner? Conner Bowers?**

**No Conner Murphey😌🐥😏**

**That's it, where are you?**  
**I thought you didn't drink?**

**Character development👨🍳💆♂️🤡**

**Fuck, you must**  
**be really pissed.**

**It stinks in here.😝🤖👣**

**Right, so you're either near**  
**the bathroom or with Richie.**  
**He isn't here to appreciate that,**  
**I'm going to forward it to him.**

**😎😎**

Stan didn't get as far as the bathroom, as this time someone fell down the stairs and used him as a crash mat. 

"Oof sorry about t-that" A familair voice said and Stan grinned, as they both lay on the floor, neither of them ready to move just yet. 

"Hey, Crash Mat" Stan said, trying not to laugh too much at the soft weight on top of him. 

"Hellooooo Disaster boiii" He shouted to no one in particular in the darkness, and the bright party lights. He rolled off of him, laying next to him at the bottom of the stairs, although they were a huge trip hazard, it was still wonderous to Stan. 

"So why did you drink so much? Usually it's me who's this pissed" Stan laughed, joined in by Crash Mat. 

"We've never spoken when I was sober...at least I don't think so, I don't speak clearly exactly without the influence" He said, still giggling. "All my worries go away and I'm just...calm" 

"So what changed?" Stan asked, perking his head up ever so slightly. 

"Oh, I did some weirder shit eaelier and now that is catching up with me" He said, his words becoming laughter's assasian. 

"What?" Stan asked, staring up, directly at the flickering, vibrant party lights. "You're high?" 

"Oops, spoliers" He laughed again and Stan felt his heart racing. "I think it must've been Fetanoyl....but last time that happened it knocked me out for days" 

"Why?" Was all Stan could say and he stopped laughing. 

"Because my life's fucked and you'd be surprised what people would do...to feel something...to feel nothing" He explained and suddenly the only sound Stan could hear was his own, deep, shallow breaths. 

"Is it quiet for you?"Stan asked and Crash Mat hummed in response. 

"It's like...euphoric, infinite" He said with a huge grin on his face. "There's nothing here and for once my mind is safe"

Stan bit his lip nervously. "Can I try?" He asked, which seemed to amuse Crash Mat a little too much for Stan's liking.

"You're something else entirely Disaster Boy, but no...I would never bring this on anyone" He said, his voice too cheery for the words that slipped through his devious lips. 

Stan pouted, a little offended that he wanted to protect him, for some reason. "I thought you liked it in there?"

"Oh I do" He said simply. "To put it simply, it's kind of the best thing that ever happened to me"

Stan frowned "But there's a very narrow line, between it being everything and then leaving you with nothing. Because soon after you're safe in your own thoughts, everything around you crumbles apart, your skin and family, all cracking" He explained.

"How so?" Stan challenged and the boy next to him sighed.

"The overdoses, the hospitals, the way it messes with your head. That's when you realize that it's all you ever were, are and every will be. Because you let it become your everything. And then it happens.You became nothing.  
The nothing you craved, you become. And every second of the rest of your life becomes a dull ache in your skull, waiting to pass. And you realize, you'll never feel anything ever again" He said, again, his voice so calm and steady, bored almost, that it was unsettling...his words burning through his body at an alarming rate.

"I like the words you say, the way you phrase things, it's weird but I like it"Stan said and he could feel the boy shuffle closer to him. "But I also think you're stupid...what if you die?"

"You wouldn't know" He said calmly, not evem affected by the morbid topic.

"It won't always be like this...under the lights, the darkness...the pain, being invisible, someday" Stan said, unsure who he was promising, himself? To give himself motivation?

"Wait for me" The boy said "We'll find each other, the real us...I promise, but promise me you won't run off until we do" 

"I promise" Stan said, turning around and by some miracle, he was able to find his lips in the darkness. He tasted like euphoria, a dangerous molten electricty, that challeneged nature, laced with a reckless dream. He seemed infinite and Stan could live with that.

But like all moments that were out of the universe's control, it had to be destroyed. 

"AT FIRST THERE WAS DARKNESS..." Richie's voice boomed through a megaphone, causing everyone to stop dancing, taking pictures and to whisper amongst themselves confused. Stan was ready to fucking kill him then and there.

"AND THEN GOD...AKA BEVERLY MARSH SAID...LET THERE BE LIGHHHHTTT!!!!" He shouted, before turning all the lights on in the house with the master switch. Stan instantly squinted his eyes, groaning as the sudden light burned deep. 

When he managed to regain his eyesight, Crash Mat was gone. _No,no,no,no._ Stan muttered to himself, no Stan wasn't the face of religon but if by some miracle he was saved from this, he would seriously reconsider his athesim.

"He's running" Eddie said, pointing to someone who was pushing throughtl the crowd to get away. 

"Roger that Eds" Richie said through the microphone. 

"Don't fucking call me that!" Eddie hissed before jumping off the bar counter that they wete both standing on, pressumbly to run after the boy.

"Richie fucking Toizer, I'm going to fucking kill you and use your body as a fucking doormat" Stan shouted, storming over to his best friend, incredibly pissed as Crash Mat was finally opening up a little, and now he was going to find out what Stan and Richie have been up to and never talk to him again.

"Ahhh Stanthony, you're looking as happy as ever" Richie said, looking down on Stan. 

"You're fucking dead" Stan hissed, which Richie found incredibly amusing. 

"Is it because you're jealous that I almost won this thing?" Richie laughed and Stan could feel his blood boil beneath his skin. _stay calm, stay calm, stay fucking calm, it's only Richie, it's only Richie, 1, 2, 3, 4, it's only Richie, 5,6,7, it's only Ric-_

Stan jumped onto the bar and tackled Richie off the back of it onto the floor, causing them both to roll across the floor before Stan could get the first punch in. "You fucking ruined everything!"Stan shouted, his fist being caught by Richie hand before he could hit him again.

"Me?This was all fun and games...I was trying to help you!" Richie said, and Stan smashed his glasses with his free fist. Richie rolled them over, pinning Stan's hands to his side so he wouldn't hurt him, or others. 

"Yeah it was all fine until you ruined everything, like you always fucking do, every single day!" Stan shouted at him and Richie froze. "Why don't you just fucking disappear?" 

That was the last words Stan spoke until he felt a heavy sting burn his cheek and, Richie's fist colliding with his face. Stan managed to wrap his arm around his neck and roll him back onto the floor, so he could get a clean shot. 

Stan was dragged away from him by Mike and Richie was tugged from the floor by Bev. Eddie just stood there, looking at both of them, compeletly and utterly _terrified._

Stan tried was restrained by Mike, unable to get to him. "Enough" Mike said. 

"Show's over fuckers!" Bev shouted across the huge crowd. "Everyone go home...now!" They didn't need to be told twice, before the room cleared. 

"Anyone want to explain what the actual fuck is going on?" Mike shouted angrily, looking genuiely disappointed in both of them.

And to be honest, Stan wanted to ask the same thing to his mind. 

_What the actual fuck?_


	7. {Don't speak, show me you're sorry}

"Hold still" Bev hissed as she placed a cold compress, soaked in Jack Daniels on Stan's forehead, each and every last scrap of pressure was an icy wind choking the breath from his lungs and making a noose around his neck.

It was a savage, bitter blast that cut right to his bones and gripped his brain in it's freezing claws, but not because of the well deserved beating, but because of the guilt. His heart constricted in it's wake as if not sure if it should go on beating.

"I am, ow" He complained as Bev tried to burn off his scalp. Stan was almost a hundred percent she was doing it on purpose, probably to singe through and dissolve his brain that made him so fucking stupid for attacking Richie.

"You're not!" She insisted, moving his head to the side so she could wipe off the dry blood behind his ear. "If your parents don't kill you, I think I will, what the fuck Stan?"

"Don't" Stan spoke firmly, gripping onto her arm for support "Don't tell my parents...they'll only be worried and try to send me back to therapy" 

Bev sighed "That isn't a bad thing Stan" She pressed "If you're struggling with control, you need to tell someone, you've never gone after Richie before, not even after his one-man-musical" 

"I'm fine" He lied, looking away, letting his thoughts shift and crack between the formation of the night sky. If Stan had to explain, he would tell you that his IED was crafted like that night sky. Just like those clouds, his insides were in a chaos.

A mess. Something was bothering him. Something was hurting him. Something ached inside him. Something felt so wrong, so invalid but he couldn't tell what. He tried to pin point the cause for this unexplained pain but failed. 

He tried to reason this unbearable burning but didn't find any. Everything felt so confused, just like a jumbled set of a puzzle. And the, beneath it all, the web that everything was ingrained into, was OCD and it burned everything, because if his mind was a puzzle, it was also obsessed with solving it, couldn't let it go.

So consequently, through this mess and this inability to solve it, the outset was worse, the conclusions that he'd draw, the anxiety and fear of what was going to happen, haunted him. He was stuck in this puzzle, and it was torturing him because he couldn't solve it.

"I'm fine" He replied, but he kew, not even the moth on the wall was convinced. 

"I'm not letting you go, until you promise me, that whatever's happening in there, isn't going to make you loose your bestfriend" Bev said and Stan closed his eyes, leaning his head on the back of the bar, which they were still behind. 

"Too late" He muttered "I fucked up everything"

Bev shook her head "You know Richie loves you, you were practically married when you were seven" Stan let a small smile slip through.

"I know I fucked up, and he has every reason to hate me...but I can't loose him Bev" He explained and Bev nodded, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Then don't tell me this, tell Richie, because if there's anyone feeling as shitty right now, it's him" She said and Stan nodded. 

"Fine" Stan muttered, knowing very well where this was going. "I'll call a truce" 

Stan went home that night, feeling more shitty than usual, partly because of his burning body, but mostly because he knew that things were starting to fall in a downward spiral of being fucked.

After several (hundred) tries, Richie eventually picked up his phone. 

"What?" He mumbled tiredly on the other end of the phone, Stan check his wrist watch and realized it was 3am...oops

"You know what" Stan muttered, somewhat reluctantly like he had a reason to be pissed at Richie. "Barrens, one hour"

"For fucks sake Stan it's too early" He groaned and Stan rolled his eyes.

"I don't care, you know we don't have a choice. It's either this or loose your head by Bev." Stan said and he could hear Richie sigh on the other end of the phone, reluctantly giving in. "Don't be late"

"Fine" He mutterered. 

𓆲

Stan didn't believe in words. Well never used to. He believed in change, and improvement. Neither did Richie.

That was it, that was their way of saying sorry. They didn't believe words meant anything when spoken, words always felt better written down. In lyrics, in poetry, in books.

Because when you speak, you can make mistakes and sometimes people can't hear you. But when you write them down, only those who you want to, can see see who you are and how you feel.

Stan was sure Bill felt the same, he seemed to find it difficult to speak to people, so Ihefound comfort in and writing. Which allowed him to illustrate my heart the way is was crafted to others.

Stan believed in Bill's words. 

He guessed it was because if he struggled to speak, and express how he was feeling, whatever he said sounded important and well thought of. 

"Stan please stop staring into the distance, I'm too tired and it makes my brian think you're like buffering or something and I need to turn you on and off again" Richie said and Stanley nodded, apologising akwardly.

Stan cleared his throat, taking out a piece of paper from him pocket. "I'm happy to call of the bet, our friendship is more important to me"He read, stumbling on his words here and there. "I can give you space if you want and help you with your Eddie situation if you want...because a lot of people need you Richie, I need you, you're my bestfriend and I can't loose you" 

Richie pulled out his own list. "I'll take the blame for Crash Mat, if he's not talking to you, I'll text him and explain everything, and I won't try anything like that again, I'm sorry, I didn't think it through. Go ahead" He said, still unable to look at him in the eyes.

"Just no more big gestures Rich, I guess we never established that before but it'll be cheating. We can't have a winner if he doesn't text me back anymore. He can't know what we're up to" Stan explained and Richie nodded, looking down at his hands awkwardly.

"Is he still not texting you back?" Richie asked and Stan shook his head. Richie sighed, leaning back onto in his seat and looking up to the ceiling. "I'll fix that Stan I promise"

"Your turn" Stan said, hoping his mind would repress that promise, so his mind wouldn't anticipate an outcome that woyld inevitably draw to disappointment. 

"Just one thing Stan..." Richie said, his gaze falling into Stan's the first time since he smashed his glasses. "I know you lost control..." Stan opened his mouth to protest but Richie cut him off. "Don't even think about lying to me Stan, especially not after everything. I know you would never willingly hurt me, that's why I'm not as upset I guess. You need to talk to ypur parents Stan, you can't loose yourself. That's all I want" Richie pleaded. 

Stan bit his lip, now being his turn to fail to look him in the eyes. "I love you Stan, so much, but I can't just sit here, and watch you destroy yourself, piece by piece again. I can't...I won't let you do that again...it hurt too much last time and it won't happened again" 

Stan felt everything drown in his chest, closing his eyes. No, no, we can't think back to that, none of that ever happened. It isn't real. "Are we done here?"Stan asked and Richie sunk in his seat. 

"Stan...you can't do this to yourself again, and until you talk to your parents..." He sighed, hesistating "You shouldn't talk to me, I seem to set you off"

"Rich..." Stan began and Richie shook his head as he put his coat back on, standing up. 

"I'm sorry Stan" 

Stan turned to face him, "What is this like some sort of divorce?" Stan asked, although his intentions were to make some sort of lighter environment, his voice cracked at the thought and it all felt very real.

"More of a seperation, it's for your own good" Richie said, wrapping his arms around the confused boy, bringing him closer to him, Stan leaned his head deep into his chest. 

"Come on Richie, you don't have to...nothing's wrong" Stan sniffled in his embrace, holding onto him tighter so he wouldn't leave. "Please don't go" 

Stan swore he could feel Richie's heart break in his chest. "Come on Stan, you don't have to do this, don't let yourself fall again, please" Richie whispered, pressing a small kiss on his head. "I'll see you soon, please"

He let go off Stan, no matter how tightly Stan clung to him. "Oh fuck" Stan muttered as soon as Richie left, he fell onto his back, looking up to the celing, his palms covering his eyes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" 

𓆲

Crash Mat still hadn't answered, and Stan was running out of options. Bev probably talked to Richie, and so had the other Losers. Common sense told Stan to just accept his fate, just talk to his parents and take the patronizing behaviour and all. 

But his intursive thoughts, which seemed to grow more dominant with every moment, told him not to, to protect himself, always to peotect himself, to protect everyone from himself. Because if they knew of the power, that grew inside of him it would hurt them, and if he tried to stop it, stop the rituals, the numbers, stop the counting...they would all die. 

So Stan let the fears consume him once more, he didn't have a choice. With limited options, Stan decided to call the someone who wasn't in harm's way. 

"H-Hello, S-Stan, i-i-it's 2 am, you alright?" Bill asked on the other end of the phone. 

"I'm fine" Stan lied.."It's just, I was wondering if...never mind" 

There was a moment of silence, and Stan was almost convinced that Bill had hung up. "M-Meet me a-at the park, n-near the s-statue in 20 minites" He said before hanging up, Stan nodded to no one in particular.

Bill didn't look anymore tired than usual, like he had just woken up from Stan's call, he didn't think much off it and hoped Bill was just staying up scrolling through memes until he felt something like normal kids. 

They sat on the bench together, awkwardly, seperated by a reasonable space. "S-Something up? Or i-is a c-common practice o-of yours" 

Stan sniffled, hiding it as a cough. "Common practice" Stan said, and Bill looked up to the sky.

"D-D-Did you know w-what stars a-are?" Bill asked, memorized by the flickers of like that managed to slip through the Derry pollution.

"Big bursts of light" Stan said, not bothering to join Bill's gaze. He knew he was just trying to distracting him, and Stan wasn't sure why.

"N-No" Bill said. "T-They're stories" Stan looked across to Bill, and then up to the sky. "H-Hopes, d-dreams of people, wishes, inagination, the life they never got, all go up there"He pointed up.

Stan frowned, more concerned with something else. "You didn't stutter" Stan said, instantly biting his tongue to stop him from prying into any more personal affairs.

"I d-don't always" He said, completly unphased by Stan's rudeness, maybe the star's were like a drug and Bill was addicted. "D-Depends how calm I am, p-people make me nervous" 

"Do I make you nervous?" Stan asked and Bill looked down to face him, that look there, the way he looked at him was more beautiful than any night sky. 

"Not much" He said, "I t-think it has s-something to do with my a-anxiety" Stan could see that Bill was fading back into the darkness that haunted his mind and knew he had to pull him to safety.

"So how did you think it started? Which was the first star?" Stan asked and Bill instantly smiled. Fuck, a smile, that smile, does what the night does to the day.

"It all s-started with t-this young kid, w-who really w-wanted a red balloon" He began, and Stan shuffled a little closer, resting his head on his hand. "At the f-fun fair, there w-were every colour, b-but red, his favourite, so o-one day a clown o-offers him one"

"Uhh, clowns scare me so much" Stan said and Bill laughed. "But that balloon, would probably cause him to float, all the way up into the sky" 

Bill nodded. "All the way up, he c-could see everything, everyone's thoughts, dreams" 

"He got stuck up there" Stan said, leaning back into the chair. "Never came down, became a star"

Bill nodded. "How l-lucky would that be?"

Stan frowned, turning to face Bill. "I thought the moral of the story was don't accept things from clowns?"

Bill shook his head. "There is n-no morals in s-stories" He said. "I would l-love it...just being able to d-disappear"

"I wouldn't" Stan said and Bill moved a little closer, leaning his head against the bench. 

"Why not?" He asked. 

"I'd be all alone, and I'd have no one to talk to in the middle of the night" Stan said and Bill knitted his eyebrows together. "Being on your own is never a good thing, everybody needs someone"

"I w-wouldn't know" Bill whispered. "I don't h-have anyone"

"If that were true," Stan said, feeling a little bit like a wise yoda at this point in time. "You wouldn't be sitting here right now...you've got me"

Bill crinkled his nose, which Stan had started to figure out he always did when he was thinking. "Really?" 

"Yeah...I've got you"Stan said, resting his hand on Bill's shoulder "Promise, if you're ever lost, we'll be lost together"

"I like the sound of that"


	8. {Seperation Anxiety}

  
"HE'S A WHAT?" Bev shouted, completely breaking her promise of remaining calm and reasonable about this. Stan sighed heavily.

"A. Drug. Addict" Stan repeated, purposefully pausing afterwards, even though he knew that it wasn't hearing what he said, that Bev had a problem with. "The last time I spoke to him, and apparently every time I've spoken to him he was high"

"Oh Stan, what have you got yourself into?" Mike asked, as he threw his water bottle up and down in the air. Both Mike and Bev had agreed to come over to Stan's house after school to do 'homework' but in reality, Stan just needed an excuse to make sure things could be slightly normal again.

He hadn't spoken to Richie, or Ben, and obviously not Eddie. Although it pained Ben to choose a side, he seemed to agree with Richie on this one and although Stan's common sense understood this, his intrusive thoughts made him _pissed._

"It doesn't make much of a difference" Stan said "It says more about what they're struggling with rather than their morals"

Mike sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "I'm no expert, but I guess I can recede on my further judgement for what makes Stan happy" He said reluctantly. "But, this isn't some shitty YA romance or fanfiction, it isn't your job to 'save' or 'heal' broken people"

Stan put his hands up in surrender, "I get it, a mentioned it because it's another clue, and besides I have my own issues to figure out first" He said

"Good point" Bev said "Who's next on our list?" She turned back to her whiteboard.

"Well my next one was Will Byers, the lad who's always asks about Stan" Mike said and Bev frowned.

"He's a little weird but he doesn't look like he does drugs" Bev said.

"His older bother looks like a stoner" Mike said seriously and Stan rolled his eyes.

"Mike, play nice" Stan said and Mike gave him an innocent grin. "We could ask Rue, she knows everything, it's lile she's been building blackmail files on everyone in the school" The mention of Rue caused a soft rose to tint Mike's cheeks.

"I'll call her" Bev said and Mike's eyes widened.

"You have her number?" Mike asked and Stan laughed, Bev tried to back away her's to make him feel better.

"Yeah, we sit next to each other in Maths" Bev explained, taking her phone out of her back pocket. "She says the only thing she's got on him is that _he's orginally from Hawkins, was a little upset for a while after having to leave his boyfriend and his friends. Doesn't look like he does drugs,_ but she then says ' _who does, ask him'_. Also _did Mike blush at the mention of my name, I have a tally chart"_

Mike looked like he had just spotted the sleep paralysis demon, his expression was priceless and was joined with laughter from Stan and Bev. "Just ask her out Mike, it's no big deal" Stan said and Mike shook his head quickly.

"That's coming from you" Bev interjected.

"Yeah well someone is still not texting me back, so it's kind of impossible" Stan said and Bev sighed, as if the problem was Stan's lack of effort rather than Crash Mat's every right to be pissed at him.

"So Will Byers, he's a nerd in general like us, maybe he's an even bigger English nerd" Mike suggested, changing the subject back to something less uncomfortable for the both of them.

"Maybe but their's only one real why to find out..." Bev said sending a sly grin to Mike's direction. "Det-"

"Absolutely not!" Stan said instantly, causing hurt expressions to flood them both. "I mean...you to still haven't come up with your crime fighting theme song, that's the only reason it didn't work last time" Stan stammered.

Mike's eyes sparkled "Great idea! So far I've got chilled strings and a pan flute when it's me and then Bev comes on with some heavy, Darth Vader-ish trumpets"

"Why am I the trumpets?" She asked, pouting like a child.

"Because you stomp when you walk, sorry to be the one to tell you" Mike explained and Bev threw a bear at him.

"But without us, how are you going to be able to solve anything?" Bev asked and Stan grinned.

"By hiring the only person who was able to solve it last time..."

**𓆲**

Stan felt like Bill Denbrough had a staring problem.

It was something to do with his paranoia, Stan guessed, it was something that he'd seem him do to everything. Not in a Rue, _'I'm going to find blackmail material on everyone in the school'_ kind of way. But more _I'm kind to find out everything you've ever done, ever thought, wished, so I can decide what you want with me'_ kind of way. 

It was something you were never prepared before, everything was still, the nothing that Stan felt and then it happenes...everything was grey.

Everything around him was burning ash from some sort of eternal flame that burned deep inside of Bill. His gaze, his bitten lip, his deep stare. Everything was grey, everything was and everything seemed to be, ashes and smoke blowing in the wind coming from this fire. Everything was just so intense, the remains of a burnt out soul, ash in a dying fire, dusting the room grey.

"I don't g-g-get it" Bill stated quietly, scribbling away in his Othello book, avoiding eye contact from the librain. "You w-want to f-f-find out if W-Will B-Byers does d-drugs?" 

Stan nodded. "I need your help to find out" He whispered and Bill frowned. 

"W-What are you t-trying to s-suggest?" He asked and Stan shook his head quietly, ignoring the evil glare he recieved from librain. 

"Nothing, you figured it out last time, whether Conner was and English nerd" Stan pressed and a small smile slipped through Bill's lips. 

"I have a-an English g-gaydar, Will B-Byers is an E-English nerd" He said with a proud grin. Stan felt his heart sink in a little. 

"Do you know how I can find out if he does drugs?" Stan asked and this was still apparently very amusing to Bill.

"Are w-we t-talking about t-t-the same Will?" Bill asked with a smirk and Stan nodded. "R-Rue usually k-knows, b-but she'll d-deny it i-if you ask, but y-you could always a-ask Will h-himself" 

"Ask me what?" Will Byers chirped, a little too loudly, causing an agressive ' _shhhh_ ' to be fired way from the librain. 

"Hey Will" Stan said awkwardly, trying to think of an appropriate sentence opener, which was limited due to his introvert nature.

"Me a-and S-Stan were h-h-having a l-little b-bet" Bill began, ignoring Stan's desperate glance, which he dropped as soon as Will looked over to him. "I-If you'd b-be a-able to t-tell if s-someone d-does drugs, and I s-s-said _not_ _a-a-always,_ a-and t-t-think of t-the m-most i-innocent, s-sweet kid i-in the s-school, and a-ask them" 

Stan felt his cheeks burn, he definitly, _didn't say that._ Will on the other hand seemed to find this really funny. "This is because of my brother, isn't it? He's just sleep deprived from looking at memes until questionable times of the morning" He explained, laughing as quietly as he could. "My mum is so overprotective of me, she drives me to school every day, I don't think I'd get away with it, also I have a week immune system so I'd probably die straight away"

"Sorry Will" Stan said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Will smiled.

"It's fine, well know that I'm hear, I've been really meaning to aks you...." _Oh here we go_ Stan thought "Do you know what Dungens Dragons is?" 

"Excuse me?" Stan asked, looking over to Bill who just shrugged whilst texting, Stan struggled to take this serious as Bill's phone case had a turtle on it, which was different from the last time they spoke. "Dungens and Dragons...is that some sort of sex thing?"

Both Will and Bill burst laughing "Far from it" Will said. "It's a nerd game, I overheard Richie make a joke about it to you and I thought you were a fan and I was trying to find if you wanted to play it with me one day" 

"Oh" Stan said, a little disappointed but somewhat pleased at the same time. "Mike thought you fancied me" He said without thinking and Will shook his head, smiling slightly.

"I'm in a long-distance relationship" Will explained, still laughing about the whole D&D. 

"That's it!" The librain shouted, appearing suddenly behind them, pushing Will away from them both. "You two beat be finishing up now" He hissed. 

"W-W-What a-are you u-up to t-tonight?" Bill asked as they left the library, trying to balance all of their text books betweem them. 

Stan smirked. "Mike's party? Why, do you want to hang out or something?" 

Bill smiled "I-Is that s-such a s-shocking r-request?" He asked, Stan shook his head. 

"You could come with us, if you wanted" Stan asked and Bill stopped walking, knitting his eyebrows together as he thought. 

"I u-u-used to l-l-like p-p-parties, b-before..." He began but shook his head slightly. _Before Georgie_ Stan didn't have to ask. "I g-guess going f-for the d-drinks w-won't be too b-bad"

"So does that mean you're up for it?" Stan asked and Bill nodded.

"I d-d-doubled c-checked with R-Rue by the w-way," He began as he leaned against the lockers. "W-Will definitly d-doesn't do d-drugs"

"I thought you said she'd deny it anyway" Stan asked, a little confused. 

"S-She would if a-any of y-you lot a-asked, but m-me and h-her go w-way back" Bill explained, giving Stan a small wave before disappearing into the horrors of the Maths classroom next to them. 

_The fuck?_

  
**𓆲**

**H**

  
**ey Crashmat.**

**Come on.**

**You can't keep ignoring me**   
**forever.**

**Please I need you.**

**Please**

**😓😢😭😭😖😕😔**

**Did you just use emojis**   
  
**Je suis shooketh😊😋😊🙂**

**CRASHMAT!!!🙂🤗☺**

**Disaster boii**

**You're not upset with**   
**me anymore?**

**Well when I went back**   
**to Mikes party on Friday idk**   
**if you were there but he sorta**   
**wrote a huge msg on the walls**   
**explaining everything😶**   
**He had to repaint it**   
**afterwards**   
  


**....**

**I'm shocked.**

**Yh ik that youre friends**   
**with Richie now.**

**Oops**

**Are you coming**   
**to Mike's tonight?**

**Erm, I'm**   
**a little busy tonight**   
**so I cant sorry**

**Drugs?**

**Very funny**   
  
  
  


**𓆲**

_If looks could kill_

If looks could kill Stan felt like Richie would've used that last time they were here. That’s probably why he was grateful no one had superpowers in this world, he'd know for fact that he would be dead. _If looks could kill._

Richie was a lot better than Stan at acting normal, which was saying something. Especially as Richie's normal was being a compelte weirdo. 

"I'm serious, the reason we don't see baby pigeons is because they're made by aliens" Richie said, lying across Eddie, Bev and Ben who were sitting on the settee. 

"Whatever you say trashmouth" Bev said, laughing at him.

"

  
It's also the same reason why we don't ever see any baby pictures of Eds" Richie said and Eddie instantly rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Richie and don't call me that" He huffed, folding his arms.

"I'm sooooo bored" Richie complained throwing his arms around in frustration.

"We could play a game" Ben suggested "There is only so mucb of Richie's jokes I can listen to" Richie stuck out his tongue.

"How about Truth or Dare?" Rue said, appearing out of no where, taking a seat next to Bill. Everyone groaned.

"W-We're n-not in a r-romantic c-comedy" Bill said and Rue nudged him. Stan stared at them, trying to figure out what exactly Bill had meant about them going way back, especially with someone so myterious as Rue. _If looks could kill._

"It could be fun" Mike said, sitting on the floor next to Stan, passing him a drink.

"You only want to play so you could get an opportunity to kiss Rue" Richie said and Mike threw a cushion and him.

Eventually everyone reluctantly agreed to play, Bev and Rue managed to keep it very interesting, and as original as possible with Truths such as _What was the weirdest place you've been hurt, most embarassing thing ever done and has anyone actually founf Richie funny?._

Ben was actually the king of daring people. _I dare Richie to make a Tinder account for Eddie's mum, Stan has to let Mike control his social media and Bev has to change one of the pictures on the wall of Mike's brother to any picture of Richie and see how long it takes for Mike's mum to notice._

Stan actually enjoyed the game, thinking all was right with the world until it Richie decided to play the ultimate revenge card. "Stan..I dare you to...kiss the most beautiful person here" Richie smirked and Stan scowled at him.

It was a fact, that Stan had always found Richie beautiful. He had told him that, _What? I can recognize beauty without falling in love._ He was his best friend and conviently attractive. _If looks could kill_

"Very funny Rich, we've all seen Perks Of Being A Wallflower, at least try to be original" Rue said cynically.

"He's obviouslu going to kiss you, whore" Bev joked, and everyone laughed, the only people who didn't find this funny being Stan and Eddie. Richie knew if this happened then Stan would fail at his _'ignoring him until death do us apart'_ game he'd been playing.

"We can't wait here forever, kiss your husband already Stan" Mike said, lying on his back, still laughing about the fact he had to prank call Pizza Hut.

_No, Richie will not win at my own game._

"What if I don't think he's the most beautiful person here?"Stan asked and Richie's grin fell, like he genuiely hadn't thought of that.

Stan turned around, cupping Bill's cheeks, leaning in and kissing him, like the petty kid he was.

_If kisses could kill._


	9. {You can't have both}

If moments could breathe.

If suddenly everything could just, be alive, all the oxygen in the world could just cease to exist, and you were just there...euphoric.

It was only a moment, but within that moment, everything Stan ever wished, felt or feared, disappeared. _Within, he was within._ The world stop moving for a moment and everything slowed.

It's all a moment, just one, one moment of everything at once. Anything before was nothing. Everything after, nothing. Just that one moment.

Time beneath, within Bill's touch was drowning, nothing was ever real, it was all infinite. Like he was told earlier, everything seemed to have a life of it's own and he didn't need to breathe. _If moments could breathe._ This was a drug, and Stan was addicted. _If kisses could kill._

And then the moment fell apart, the life faded into nothing and Stan was suddenly very aware of every strand of air that fell in and out of us lungs. _He was without._

Infinity was a moment, euphoria, all a moment, because Bill pushed him away softly, his gaze darkening, like that moment didn't bring him life, but...death. Hurt deepened beneath Bill's gaze and he shook his head softly before disappearing out of the room. _If looks could kill._

"I swear down if Stan tries to blame me for that-" Richie began but was cut off by a threatening glance from Bev.

"Beep Beep Richie" Stan muttered before silence eveloped around them, all with the same thought embedded within, _or without,_ ' _It was a joke, what the fuck happened?'_

This was a strange position for Stan, through the unusual amount of versions of this game he had played in the past, Stan had ended up kissing practically every single one of the Losers. It was always half a moment, always exaggerated sound effects during and fits of giggles post. _But this was a moment._

Stan managed to pick himself off of the carpet pretty quickly, for his current levels of alochol consumption and made a mental note to add that to his award cabient, in his head, right next to being able to pretend to laugh at ten Richie jokes in a row. A personal record.

Bill was leaning against the brick wall, outside of Mike's house, looking down at his knackered converse that he kept scraping against the floor. He looked a lot calmer, a lot more relaxed than his panic response inside. "You alright?" Stan asked, folding his arm and leaning against the wall, a safe distance from him.

Bill looked up to him, cautiously "I'm fine" He said, his tone relaxed, stutter gone poof. But Stan wasn't convinced.

"I wasn't going to let Richie win" Stan said and Bill nodded, like he wasn't really listening. "You'd be surprised what I do to get back at him, it was nothing"

Bill glared at him, no longer distracted by everything and anything that wasn't Stan. "You don't get do you?" He asked, again his tone strangely calm, not complenenting his choice words, it made Stan feel uncomfortable. No stutter, just calm. "That's why I'm pissed, I'm not a prank, I'm not a trick you can use for you own petty revenge, I don't like being used Stan. I don't care what happened within your group, but you should know most people don't kiss people they barely know for their own means"

Stan frowned. "I thought we were friends?"

Bill was almost amused by this remark, but Stan put it down to him not corresponding a normal physical response to his emotions. "You barely know me"

"Not true...and wait, what the fuck happened to your stutter? How are you calm and pissed at me?" Stan asked, feeling as though everything Bill had told him about himself was a lie.

"Like a said...you b-barely know m-me" He said, shaking his head and walking around Stan to get back into the house. Stan figured that by mentioning it, he made him more uncomfortable and anxious. Stan held his arm to stop him and Bill instantly jumped back, genuienly looking scared oh him. In that moment Stan became guilt.

"Why don't you just let me know you?" Stan asked desperately, and Bill's eyes darkened once more, as if Stan's words had figured a way to penetrate through the haze that clouded all of Bill's anger and maintained his calm nature.

"B-Because t-then you'll l-lose w-what ever you a-already knew, and w-we'll never b-be able to s-speak a-again" He said, his tone dark and it seemed to claw and Stan's chest. "You c-can't have b-both"

Bill pulled his arm back forcefully, making his way back into the house and this time Stan didn't stop him.

" _Oh fuck"_ Stan growned, holding his head in his arms firmly, as crouched down to the floor. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck"._ He felt his anger burn beneath his skin, scolding him for fucking up once again. His hand reached for the half-empty glass bottle next to him and he threw it agressively, screaming in frustration. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck"_

Everything was painted beneath his anger, a lense that was contaiminated with cynasim. He felt his body being pulled away from his control, into the arms of Richie, painful sobs escaping him and running away to Richie's clothes.

With everything distorted, Stan wasn't sure how long he was there with Richie, being held close to him until all the feelings of grief, gave way to numbness. "I fucked up again Rich" He whimpered as he looked up to his bestfriend, the one he lost, _fuck, fuck, fuck._

Richie brushed Stan's hair out of his face, careful not to charm it in a messy way and held his cheeks firmly. "You didn't fuck anything up" He said simply "You just played a game, and sometimes games aren't for everyone"

"It's not that, I hurt him" Stan whispered, using Richie's flannel to wipe his nose with, which caused Richie to scrunch up his nose, a little annoyed. "He's been through so much, he doesn't need me to hurt him on top of that" _Stan had become guilt._

"You didn't mean to" Richie said "He'll see that and some point, he needs some time"

"What if he never talks to me again?" Stan asked and Richie sighed.

"Then that's his decision, he deserves an apology, an explantation, but you can't force people to forgive you" Richie said "If he doesn't want to, then tragically, let it be"

Stan sniffed and Richie loosened his embrace a little, as he brought them both to their feet. "I'm sorry Rich" Stan's voice shook "I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm sorry I couldn't make amends...I'm just scared"

Richie nodded, resting his hands on Stan's shoulders. "I can't see you like this Stan, I mean I will, I'll always be here for you, even if you become a serial killer fuck, I'll always be here for you" He said, looking down to his feet and then up to Stan. "I'm sorry, seeing you hurt, hurts me, that doesn't mean you shouldn't hurt. I just thought that, I meant enough to you, that you save yourself if not for you, for me"

Stan nodded, closing his eyes and sighing. "I think the fear of losing people, losing you, makes me do strange things. I know I'm losing control, losing the fight, giving away my mind, but I'd lose that first, before I pet myself lose you. If you were to lose you, I'd lose myself" Stan said, and Richie wrapped his arms around him, bring him into a hug.

Not every connection is a romantic connection, Stan did fall deep for Richie, but like not in love. It was weird like having someone in your life and they’ve been in your life for so long that every version of the future you imagine they’re there.

Life’s somehow fit you together but separate and when you lose that, something's that’s been in your life longer than siblings, it’s like losing yourself. He was always some incarnate version of himself, and everyone has a love-hate relationship with themselves. Stan was Richie, and Richie was Stan. Different but the same.

"So, does this mean we're friends again?" Stan asked and Richie laughed.

"We'll always be friends idiot, but I want to change the bet" Richie said and Stan instantly stiffened in his arms.

"What?" He asked.

"When we find out who Crashmat is...you'll talk to your parents, if you promise me right now Stan I swear down I'll tell them myself" Richie said and Stan sighed, biting his lip nervously as he hesistated.

"Fine...but" He said quickly cutting Richie's cheer off. "If I do that, you have ask Eddie out"

Richie let go of him, stepping back in shock. "What?" His voice cracked, his eyes wide and his cheeks dusted with the brightest blush Stan had ever seen.

"I'm no-"

"Fine then I wo-"

"Fuck I'll do it!" Richie interrupted him quickly. "You play dirty Uris" He pointed at him.

"I'll let you comment on that" Stan laughed and Richie thought for a moment before groaning.

"Oh fuck, I'm losing it" Richie mumbled and Stan laughed before hugging Richie once more, because he could do that know and it had been a long week without him.

A week.

"See you on the battlefield" Richie said as he let go of him, waving him.

"Playingfield" Stan corrected him and Richie frowned, confused. "The saying is ' _See you on the playingfield'"_

"I don't care about Victorian sonnets from ancient nonces" Richie said "I'm saying, see you on the battlefield, all or nothing" He threw his arms up in excitment before running back inside, cheering wildly.

"Oh fuck" Stan muttered, looking down at the floor as he walked deeper into the garden, not wanting to trip over in his current state.

He looked up to the night sky, the pollution, the faint stars fading beneath the dark clouds. It was as though that was the only way Stan could think, could draw conclusions, only place he lost and made friends. All beneath the night sky, below the stars.

_You can't have both._

Bill's words seemed to have a habit of ingraining themselves deep within Stan's mind, branding him almost, always there and he get never get rid of them, like something was caught between his teeth. _He was within, within my thoughts, within me and I was without him._

He couldn't seem to have both Bill and Crashmat at the same time, to have one, he'd have to lose the other. He couldn't have Richie and Crashmat either, to have one, he'd have to lose the other. Richie and Bill also seemed to be mutually exclusive, to have one, he'd have to get rid of the other.

And that was it. Stan repeated that cycle, that pattern under his breath, like a prayer, hoping it wasn't true. Those three people, the three people who seemed to have buried themselves deep in his thoughts, wihin his identity, within him.

 _They couldn't all be within, and he'd be without._ Stan needed them, he wasn't sure why it was them, but the world worked in strange ways and so did Stan. If he lost any of them, he'd lose himself. _You can't have both._

"No Bill, I can and I will" Stan promised, to no one other than the night sky, the only thing that united everyone he couldn't have at once.

And so a promise followed the burning ash, a whisper of ghosts in the breeze, towards the soulless sky that envoloped the city. Hoping one day the stars would be visable above the boy with a mild swearing problem.

_Oh_ _Fuck._


	10. {To Lose, To Gain, Is All The Same}

  
The one time Stan actually listened to someone, they told him that fear is more than 'fight, flight and freeze'. People experience fear in different ways. Fear is subjective. _If looks could kill._

I guess if he ever saw that person again, or for some reason they were doing some weird narration of his life, they'd say that his fear was consistant. That for a mind that was always looking, always planning, always _thinking,_ always searching for a _way out_ , it was ineviatble

Because when he was scared, he wanted to escape. Always get out, run away from everything that ever hurts, so you'll always feel nothing, and never risk feeling something...something that'll break you. His mind solved problems before they occur, the only way to survive this life he put myself in.

  
He had a small habit, that came along wih this fear he guessed, this fear of losing people. He had a strange habit of making thing bigger than they were, but it also meant that he was observant, not as much as Rue, but he'd pick up a few things here and there. 

Things about Bill weren't adding up, he knew he shouldn't go all Sherlock on a socially awkward boy who lost his brother as is still trying to work his way through the grieving period, but he couldn't help himself. Stan liked to know things, he _had to know_ things. As soon as his mind became paronoid and decided something was important, it was an obsession and he had to solve it, or else _the consequences_.

** _THINGS THAT DON'T MAKE SENSE_ **

**_Baby pigeons._ **  
_How, why? Just why?_

**_Uno reverse._ **  
_Why am I always_  
_going in the wrong direction?_

** _Bill Denbrough._ **

_Where did his brother go?_  
_Why is he always changing his phone case?_  
_How does he know Rue?_  
_Are all broken people simultaneously calm and angry at the same time?_  
_Why does everything he say so poetic, and can be a quote on Pinterest woth aesthetic sketches around it._

That last one obviously resulting in the only conclusion that Stan could draw from the list being

_I'm weird. Not even in an aesthetic Tumblr way._

  
His problems seemed to be piling on top of him, because unlike the film and book characters that put unrealistic expectations in his head, he had a shit tone of homework and revision to do so he could some how pass his exams. Bill wouldn't talk to him, Richie kept looking at him like he was a sick puppy and he knew he had to come clean to Crash Mat for kissing Bill.

He wouldn't have even think about doing that if it weren't for Bill, he sort of made him realize that kissing your friends randomly, unexpectently and without consent wasn't exactly an appropriate thing to do. Especially when you may or may not be in a non visual relationship with stranger. Stan really wasn't sure what was going on with him and Crashmat, especially since he just lost Bill. Speaking of which.

"Hey Bill...it's me again...erm, that's Stan calling, I don't know if you save numbers...well I guess you do, because I texted you the other night and...fuck" Stan rambled, taking a deep breath to stop himself. "I'm worried, no one's seen you in a while, and look I know I fucked up and lost your trust..but I just really..."

_Beep_

It was in that moment that Stan was inspired to Google whether or not you could sue sounds, because before he could even _think_ of his next words, he was interupted by the worst employed sound known to man. He nearly smashed his phone then and there. But then he remembered, he was _calm,_ and be was _incontrol._

Sadly the only free medidation apps that didn't require bank details...of a bank account he didn't have was one with not so relaxing voice overs like Kermit and Steve Coogan. It was difficult for him to remain calm.

**Hey Crashmat**

**Hellooooo**  
  
  


**How was your night without**  
**me?**

**No good backfired.**

**Oh no, what**  
**happened?**

**Why is ur texting so**  
**formal?**  
**Im the english nerd**

  
**Idk.**  
**Ew, that felt**  
**wrong.**  
**Please answer the**  
**question.**

**Only if you want to.**

**There was just**  
**kinda a big fight**  
**outback. There was actually**  
**quite a few but I got a black**  
**eye.**

**Shit.**

**How? Are**  
**you ok?**

**Alright suppose**  
**Upset for me friend**  
**tho. They got it**  
**worse😔**  
  
  


**I'm so sorry x**

**Its ok**  
**u didnt do anything**  
**wrong**

**xx**

**....**

**Erm...**

**I kinda did**  
**something bad**

**Oh no.**  
**This isn't Vic**  
**is it?**

**WHAT?**  
**NO WTFFFF?**  
**It isn't, I didn't**  
**do anything illegal**  
**or shit.**

**Oh ok**

**What did Vic do?**

**U didnt hear?**  
**Never mind.**

**Well, I sort of**  
**accidently, possibly,**  
**maybe, depends how**  
**you take this but...I**  
**kissed someone else.**

**By accident!**

_read._

**.....**

**Erm ok.**  
**How does that work.**  
**Ppl don't accidently**  
**kiss??????**

**It was wrong**  
**I don't even know**  
**why I did it, but it**  
**really meant nothing.**  
**It barely lasted a second.**  
**I was only slightly pissed**  
**tho.**

**Im confused.**  
**But Im no angel**  
**Was it a good kiss?**

**Not exactly.**  
  
  


**im clearly**  
**fishing for**  
**compliments here**  
**Disaster boy.**

**You're the best**  
**kisser don't worry.**

**You make**  
**me blush😂😂😘**  
  


Stan sighed heavily, lying on his back and letting his thoughts drift upwards, they smash against the ceiling and fall back into his head. It was sort of a lie, kissing Bill felt a lot more...reckless, as he knew who it was. And if Stan knew anything about himself, it would be that he was always drawn to the more reckless, rouge, adventure typish shit. First that was Crashmat, but a kiss that destroyed a friendship, seemed to top that. 

Stan groaned in frustration, as he left yet another voicemail to Bill, he threw his phone across the room and muffled a scream in his pillow. His entire life was completely at utterly fucked, and it only seemed to be getting worse. 

Again, when his life got really fucked and he needed a little advice, even though he hated most advice, there was only one person who's advice seemed to work. 

**𓆲**

"Not you again" Nan's carer, Jane, conplained. "What are you here for, another complaint about the biscuit quality?"

"No I'm here to see my Nan, and that wasn't me" Stan assured her, but she just rolled her eyes, waving it off.  
"Come on...where's Nan?" 

She narrowed her eyes at him...at least he though she did, with all of this smoke it was difficult to tell. "So you haven't heard?"She asked 

  
"No...heard what? Is everything ok?" Stan asked, starting to feel panic build up in his chest.

"She's...She's formed a band" She said and Stan sighed in relief. "Maybe you could convince her to change the name"

Everything had been reorganized since the last time he was here, all the settees and chairs stacked in the corner with Nan in the middle with a mic and wearing leather trousers. She was surrounded by her 'band mates' a lady with a guitar and a man with spoon and many pots around him...I'm guessing as drums.

"Who's this?"She asked when she noticed Stan come in. "Are you from the record label?"

"No it's me...Stan" He said and she smiled.

"Everyone this is Stan...my manager" She said and Stan shook my head.

"No I'm not" Stan said 

"It's baking flour that's in my bag...I swear"The pianist said, accidently hit the 'demo' button on the keyboard and a cluky version of jingle bells started playing. 

"Good to know" Stan said.

"Why are you here?Have you found Tom yet?" She asked and Stan shook my head.

"We cremated him nine years ago" Stan explained. 

"You BURNT HIM ALIVE?"She asked and Stan sighed heavily. "Fucking hell..."

"Can I talk to you privately Nan?" Stan asked and she sighed, before pushing her microphone away and following her confused grandson into the other room.

"Ok, what's wrong?" She asked sitting in the chair opposite him.

"I have this problem, were I keep fucking up and falling out with people, and then having to find ways to make it up to them...I'm used to that. But I have this new friend, and the same rules of friendship that I have with the Losers don't seem to apply to him" Stan explained, holding his head in his hands. 

"Have you even tried talking to him? Oh come on, don't look at me like that, you usually complain before attempting to solve your issues" She said and Stan rolled his eyes, like it wasn't true.

"He won't pick up his phone" Stan said.

"Fuck phones, I used to communicate with Tom by talking to him, before you idiots burned him alive" She muttered. "Just go and talk to him, or just send him a letter or something" 

"I mean I don't know where he lives" He protested and she waved him off. 

"You'll have to just find out, just make a friend in school admin like I did" She said and Stan's eyes widened. 

"I'll just send the rest of my audition tape for _You_ while I'm at it shall I?" Stan asked but he really would be surprised if she actually got that reference. 

Stan left the building to see his Dad outside, looking like he was about to ring the bell, holding flowers.

"Dad?" Stan asked "What's with the flowers?"

"Oh it's for Jane And The Dickheads" He said and Stan's eyes widened. 

"What?"

"Jane And The- wait you don't know about the band" He said and Stan shook his head.

"Oh I know about it I just...never mind, what the are you doing here?" Stan asked "Why didn't you just tag along with me" 

"I need my own time for advice from your Nan" He said and Stan rolled his eyes. 

"Stay out of trouble Stan"

"No promises" 

**𓆲**

"Betty Ripsom, Betty, Betty, Betty the-" 

"Just tell me what you want Stanley" Betty said, shutting the photocopier lid down as she was using it to place photocopies of her ex's nudes around the school. 

Stan sighed, knowing that as Betty worked in admin as a student volunteer, it was more often than not people wanted her to abuse that power, and she would for either her own amusement purposes or like for the right price. "I need to find someone's address" Stan said. 

"I'm getting the word....nonce" She grumbled stacking the copies she had already done.

"I'm not noncing, I just want to send someone something" Stan said, wincing slightly at his choice of words as he realized it made him sound more like he had a speech impairemnt issue rather than vague enough to not sound creepy.

"Is this Conner again? Trying to promote his anti-Bowers society by sending pamphlets at student adresses?" Betty asked, with a bored expression on her face. 

Stan smirked. "It may work this time" He suggested and she sighed, picking up the photocopies and passing Stan keys to the filing cabinent. 

"You have five minutes" She said and Stan grinned.

"Thank you so much" He said wrapping his arms around the taller girl.

"Yeah, yeah" Betty said before leaving the room. 

_Dear Bill,_

_I'm sorry, I know that might sound_  
_pathetic and shit, but you should_  
_know that I've never believed in words. I never believed they meant anything, I thought that only action and change could mean anything. But the thing is, your words don't leave me Bill, I'm drowning in every thought that you speak out loud and the anticipation of the thoughts you keep to yourself occupy my daydreams._

_You make me want to make words mean something. I'm sorry if you felt that you were being used for a petty mean. I miss the conversations we used to have, I miss making stories with you. I want you to believe in my words, even though that may be difficult for you to believe._

_He asked me to kiss the most beautiful person in the room, I've always found him beautiful. I can recognise beauty without being attracted to it. But things had changed, the late night talks, the words. The truth was, that night I kissed most beautiful soul in that room. As much as you may not think so, you're a wonder Bill._

_You should know that it wasn't nothing, my mind hasn't shut up about you since the kiss. Always thinking ways to make it up to you, because I care about you._

_And the idea of kissing you again..._

Stan instantly scribbled out that last part agressively, falling onto his back, covering his face with his hands. _The idea that Bill could kiss me again...is stupid because I don't like him in that way, I like him like I like Richie. I have crashmat._

He groaned in frustration, picking another piece of paper, just so he could get it all out and never think about it again. _The idea of kissing you again, has contaiminated my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you, before any fucking kiss._

Stan steadied his breath, this wasn't what he wanted. Bill was a wonder, he was beautiful, but Stan could never really think about him like that. Stan knew he had fallen deep for Crashmat, and knew that this...some form of diluted lust for Bill was not falling deep, more fantasising about putting a face to the boy he'd fallen for. 

Bill was broken and greiving, it was unfair for Stan to picture him like this, but then again he knew he was only desperate to like someone he knew rather than a strange. _The prospect of another kiss, seems to_ _wind m_ e, _like when you slip on the stairs and one of them hits you in the middle of your back._

Stan tried to drop the pen, to stop the next thought from escaping onto the ink sunk paper. _The notion of them_  
_continuing for what is traditionally_  
_terrifying forever excites me_  
_to an unfamiliar degree._

He folded the first piece of paper into a paper plane, one he would try to aim for Bill's window. But the second, _or fuck the second_ which is more like an twilight five transcript proposal, would have to be burned...much, much later as he was busy right now and would keep it in his pocket for safe keeping.

He stood up, putting his coat on to get ready to go to Bill's when he recieved a phone call. He answered it excitedly, hoping it was Bill, but instead it wad Richie. "Hey Richie, everything alright?"

"Yeah I just had this thought if someone calls me emotionally ambigious is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Richie asked and Stan groaned. 

"A bad thing, very bad" Stan said and he heard Richie curse on the other end of the phone. "I'm really busy Richie I have to apologise to Bill" 

"Wait, what? Stan what the fuck, just leave him for a bit, I'm no expert but it's difficult for him right now" Richie said and Stan frowned.

"The fuck? Rich what are you talking about?" Stan asked. 

"You didn't hear don't you watch the news Stan?" Richie asked and Stan felt fear burn through him.

"What? What happened Rich?" Stan pleaded and Richie hesisatated. 

"They found Georgie" Richie said and Stan sighed in relief. 

"Oh thank fuck, I knew it, people don't just dis-"

"No Stan...they found his body" Richie whispered. 

"Oh fuck" 


	11. {Good Old Fashioned Flower Boy}

  
Listen.

Stanley was aware of grieving. Although he may not be inclined to any experience of any _real_ harship in his life other than his conflict with his mind, that didn't mean he was apathetic to the harship of others.

He was _aware_ the idea of letting things be, he knew that there was a sort of, ritual...is that the word? For how to react to other people's loss. He wasn't really sure what that was though.

He knew what not to do, if that helped, like everything in Stan's life he was aware of thd negative and false actions. Relatibility, as much as you may think helps, doesn't just makes people feel like their suffering is common, and therefore shouldn't make a big thing about it.

Sympathy? That could be taken the wrong way, no one ever really liked being pitied, it was downgrading anf patronizing. Lies about everything being ok was probably the worse thing he could do.

"Flowers" Stan's Dad said, organizimg the sunflowers in the vase. "That's always a nice gesture"

"The flowers are alive though Dad and pretty, this isn't a celebration...isn't that a bit ironic?" Stan asked, leaning against the counter and picking out a rose from the vase, letting the thorn dig deep in his skin.

"I know you've been lucky enough to never lose anyone Stan, but you sound like a Sociopath, did you yake a little too much of your meds again, are you high?" His Dad asked and Stan shook his head. To be perfectly honest, Stan hadn't taken them in months, it was true they helped with his OCD and agression. But they seemed to drain everything along with it, like the corrupt part of Stan's mind was all he ever was and it took away all his emotions...it made him numb.

"Try to imagine what it was like the last time you felt sad, what you wanted people to do and if you can't, you need to know that sometimes it's important for people to feel the pain...apathy is disrespectful to their memeory" He said and Stan frowned, resting his hands under his chin.

The problem was, one of the reasons Stan was so fucked was that the way he reacted to things was inappropriate. The last time he was devestated...when he lost Richie, when he lost Crashmat...when he lost Bill. _You can't have it all._

He always tried to solve his problems, never cace the consequences but push away from them and put things back in order. Maybe Bill could be like that too, feel the pain but distract from it for a moment.

"Just give some flowers to his parents Stan, they'll let Bill know, just to let him know that you care but not to make things worse by talking to him" His Dad said, ruffling Stan's hair, quickly brushing his curls back in order after he noted Stan's wince.

"You don't really think I could make him worse...do you?" Stan asked and his Dad shrugged.

"You have a tendency to...just, he isn't Richie, ok, or Bev...remember that" His Dad said, giving Stan a small hug. "Flowers and buy a card or something" Stan nodded, before his Dad left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Stan picked the flowers out of the vase and tied them together with an elastic band, he'd deal with the consequences of that later.

His fingers clenched around the thorned flowers as he cycled down the road, Kilo Kish whispering in his ears as he let himself get distracted by the birds in the sky.

Bill's mum tried to smile when she saw Stan, but failed. He guessed she must have had to open the door to many of the neighbours who brought flowers and false messages of comfort, just to feel like their a good person. "Hello..." She trailed off.

"Stanley" Stan said and she nodded. "I brought some flowers, I know it's ironic, because they're alive but if you think about it, bodies decompose into the soil, so one day, Georgie will be a flower" He rambled awkwardly, biting his tongue agressively. _This was what Dad was talking about._ Stan didn't really know how to interact normal human beings.

"I'm sorry...this I don't know how to speak, I brought these so I wouldn't do this...fuck" Stan muttered awkwardly, unable to look at her.

"It's ok" She said soflty and Stan looked up to see that she didn't look distraught or disgusted by his words, she was smiling a little and actually looked a little...amused. "You're very sweet, that was the most genuine thing I've heard this afternoon"

"I'm a friend of Bill's" Stan explained, this seemed to make her eyes sparkle a little in surprise. "I don't want to hurt him by talking to him...but I want him to know that I care, I didn't know what to do...this is what normal people do, apparently. But I still managed to mess that up"

She rested her hand on his arm, making his nerves calm down. "Trust me, normal people haven't been this considerate, come in" She said and Stan followed her into the kitchen. "It's what the people we love do, rather than what normal people do. Bill never speaks of friends...he does have friends?"

Stan hesistated. "We've only known eachother for a couple of weeks, he's known Bev, Beverly Marsh for longer and Rue I think" Stan explained and ahe nodded, placing the flowers in a vase, to join the many others. "He's a good friend" _When I don't fuck things up._

She nodded. "It'll be a while, but could you look out for him, when he goes to school again?" She asked.

"Yeah" Stan said. He wasn't really used to looking out for people, only stopping Richie from getting himself killed really. "It was nice meeting you, I should go, if you need anything I'll promise to stop my mum from baking you anything"

She smiled. "That would be nice" She said, laughing softly. "Take care"

"I'll try" Stan said giving het salute, scolding himself for doing so when he turned around and walked out of the door. _Why am I so weird?...and not even in a cute way, just in a concerning way._

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he walked straight into someone, crashing straight to the floor. "Ah fuck" He complained, but wishing he said that a moment latet when he realized it was infact Bill who he had walked into. "Shit"

Bill didn't say anything, reaching his arm forward and pulling Stan up. "You o-o-ok?" He asked, without any emotion in his voice.

Stan brushed the dirt off of his jeans. "Fuck that" Stan said "How bad are you?"

Bill shook his head, looking to his feet "I'm a-alright..."

"I hope you aren't" Stan said and Bill's eyes widened. "You're allowed to feel sad Bill, you need to feel whatever you're feeling. Doesn't matter if you feel like you shouldn't because your parents have it worse or that he's been missing and you should already be 'over it', or whatever the fuck you're trying to tell yourself. It's not your job to see how everyone else is feeling, you need to be able to care for yourself"

Bill hesistated "How d-d-did you k-know?" He asked, too broken to even try to deny it.

Stan shrugged "I know a thing or two about having fucked thoughts" He explained and a small smile slipped through Bill's lips. "I have something for you..." Stan searched his pockets, digging out the letter he folded into a paper plane.

He handed it to Bill "It's an apology, for what happened at Mikes-" Bill opened his mouth to protest and Stan shook his head. "I wrote it before I found out about Georgie...it isn't out of pity I promise"

"Thanks S-S-Stan" Bill muttered, studying the paper craft awkwardly.

"What do you want Bill?" Stan asked and Bill's nose creased in confusion. "I'm not being rude, I can stay, I can leave, I can distract you, I'm not good with this stuff to be honest"

Bill smiled sadly, "Well I-I-I was g-g-going to c-c-cry in my p-p-pillow for q-questionable hours..." He began. "But I-I-I guess, I w-w-would really l-like a d-distraction instead...m-maybe cry a-about s-something else"

Stan nodded, thinking for a moment. "We could like, watch a film?" He suggested. "Like at the cinema?"

Bill's gaze narrowed at Stan's "N-Neither of u-us have t-that kind of m-money, and I d-don't want to c-cry in p-public" He whispered and a small smile, slipped through Stan's lips.

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind" Stan said.

**𓆲**

Sneaking into a projection box was surprisingly easy, which Stan thought said a lot more about their security than his sleuth skills. "Yeah, t-t-this is d-definitly i-illegal" Bill said, but he didn't seem that opposed to whole idea. "S-S-Shouldn’t someone b-be watching t-this?" Bill asked as he inspected the projector.

"I think it’s automatic" Stan suggested. "Do you know what’s playing?"

  
"Romeo and J-J-Juliet, Baz L-Luhrmann from t-t-the looks o-of i-it” Bill muttered, and Stan frowned. 

"Oh, fuck me, this was a bad idea" Stan said taking off his jacket and using it as a blanket to sit on the floor. 

"How dare you, the f-f-film’s a m-masterpiece!” He gasped, and I  
Stan rolled my eyes, as he sat next to him.

"It cheesy" Stan protested. 

"It's romantic" Bill said, so firmly that he didn't stutter once. "And the s-soundtrack has m-my heart"

"So your music taste is equally as bad?" Stan suggested and Bill nudged into him, resting into him and not moving back afterwards. Stan rested his arms around Bill's shoulders, leaning into his touch. 

"Oh I l-love this s-scene" Bill said sitting up to get a better view, it was like the entire shadow of him was glistening under the light of the balcony scene. 

Stan wanted to make a cynical comment, about the level of cringe this film was burning him with, but under the wonder of Bill, it left him. 

Time became nothing, moments that were binded by Bill's trance under the soft glow of the screen and the faint tears that would slip down his cheeks. 

It was a film of his own, Bill. He was a cinematic masterpiece Stan thought. The room was casted over, with a faint blue spell as the pool scene drifted through. 

Stan felt a lump in his throat and swalled, he looked up at this time his eyes weren't alone. They were sitting so close together in that small space that Stan's fingers brushing Bill's knuckles didn't have to seem deliberate, but he made it so, anyway. 

  
He felt Bill's hand shiver underneath his but he didn't move it from where they touched. Their gazes never wavered from each other’s, and when they did, it was only so that Stan's gaze could travel to Bill's lips for a moment, only to come back to Bill's eyes.

Bill looked like he didn't know what to make of any of this, but he also looked like he was denying it was even happening; he looked like maybe in the darkness of the room, they could pretend nothing was real.

The idea that had haunted his mind since last time, didn't seem so horrifying for a moment. He thought he was going to do it as well, he almost let him himself close his eyes, and press his lips against Bill's. But for once, his mind flooded with common sense, telling him that, that wouldn't be appropriate as Bill was grieving, he had just lost his brother.

That wasn't the type of distraction he was looking for. He couldn't lose Stan and Georgie. It wasn't fair. And that isn't even considering what happened last time.

Last time.

Instead Stan said "It didn't mean nothing...at Mike's party" He whispered, even though it was only those two there. "It wasn't a mistake"

And with that, Stan looked back to the screen for the first time that day, and Bill looked away from it for the second.   
  
  
  
  



	12. {You Don't Want To Be High For This}

  
There were moments in Stan's life when he actually did wonder about the past, it was rare but he couldn't deny they happened.

In his mind, everything was made of moments, moments that he was in presently, the past was never real and the future was only made up of what happens the moment after this one, so was therefore irrelevant.

That, and that only was the reason why he didn't enlighten people with his tragic back story, _it wasn't real, nothing ever was._

This was sometimes difficult, as for people like Bill, everything was the past, and the moment you were in was only there to either make the past the future, or to stop the past becoming the future.

Stan understood why people felt like that, the people with the only piece of fucking advice being _'learn from your mistakes_ ' . He never explained things to people, at least he didn't think he did, he just let them catch on. But Richie was persistent.

"Come on Stan...I'm not being nosey, just tell me if your plan worked" Richie asked, somehow _walking_ irritably next to Stan.

Stan rolled his eyes. "You are...but since you won't leave me alone until I tell you, I'm not sure...I gave him the letter, but he didn't read it, he seemed to have already forgiven me" He explained as they made there way into the Satanic summoning grounds...the History classroom.

Richie stopped for a moment, as he thought, annoying the girl behinf him as he blocked the corridor. "You gave him the right one...right?" He asked, walking over to his desk when the girl finally pushed him out of the way.

Stan hesistated "Yeah...I swear, I did" He said, checking his jacket pockets, the other note still in there. He sighed in relief when he figured he was right.

"Good morning...and shut up" Their History Teacher, Mr Davis said, shutting the door behind him.

Richie didn't listen to him, only lowering his voice slightly. "What about Crashmat?" He asked, leaning over the desk, Stan sat down.

"All good I think" Stan said. "I don't have any new leads...but if I did, I wouldn't tell you"

Richie pouted. "I guess that's fine...all's fair in the game of Love and War" He said, pretending to look very interested in his upside down textbook, the index page when Mr Davis looked in his direction.

Stan rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile. "Love and War?" He mused and Richie shrugged. "I think our marriage is having a little bit of a strain...especially with your attempted affair with Eddie"

Richie sighed heavily. "Trust me that's nothing" He muttered, Stan quirked his eyebrow, pressing for him to eleborate. "He doesn't seem to be catching on...I've been flirting with him non stop and he seems to think that's like a friends thing? You know what he said to me the other day?" Stan shook his head.

"Your the weirdest friend I have Richie?" He said and Stan winced. " _Friend..._ fucking friend"

"Oh, friend" Stan said, in the worse impression ever produced in the world, making Richie's sound tolerable. "You'd prefer to be the weirdest boyfriend?"

"Obviously" Richie muttered. "I don't know how you do it Stan...how do you pull so many boys?"

Stan shrugged. "I guess I differentiate flirting and being friendly" He said and Richie frowned, his nose creasing like it did every time he frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked and Stan smirked, pretending that it was directed to the European Exchange Rate notes on his desk.

"Richie, you flirt with Eddie, right? You annoy him and tell him he's cute I guess" Stan began "And we're friends right?" He asked and Richie nodded "But we're married?"

Richie's eyes widened, his jaw dropping. "Ohhhh" He said, putting his hand over his mouth "He thinks that's just the way I talk to people, the way I am?"

Stan nodded, Richie groaned, resting his head on the desk. "I'm so fucked" Richie said, Stan rested his hand on his shouldet.

"Yes you are" Mr Davis said, appearing out of no where suddenly, towering over Richie. "But for other reasons than your low budget romantic comedy Netflix original issues"

"Oh shit" Richie mumbled.

"Shit indeed" Mr Davis said, and Stan tried to bite back his smile. "It was very flattering to recieve the knownledge that the torturous hours wasted teaching you this year, Mr Tozier has taught you that History began in 1670, that Henry the 8th was a pornstar and that Valdmir Putin was a fashion student in this school" This caused a few sniggers

Richie sighed. "See you in detention" He mumbled and Mr Davis smiled. "What should I do with this weeks essay?" He asked, taking out a food-stained collection of papers in his bag.

"Feel free to hand it in my filing cabinet" Mr Davis said and Richie frowned.

"Where's that?" He asked.

"Any bin" Mr Davis said. "Any bin you find within or outside the school" He turned around and went back to the front of the classroom.

Stan laughed as quietly as he could. "I hate you" Richie muttered. "I'm so divorcing you after this" Stans stuck out his tongue.

"I hope he didn't read your conclusion about Thatcher and Homoerotic art" Stan added and Richie threw his rubber at him.

The worst thing about History lessons was that, even though you knew, you knew that there would be an end...they weren't infinite, that outcome seemed increasingly unlikely.

When they were finally released from that horror, Stan was ready to drop out of school and join a boy band or something. But that cynical daydream was interuppted by Mike-who for some reason was completely unaffected by that hour-long form of medieval torture.

"I'm not being your messenger boy, Mikey" Stan said as he, placed his history book that was heavier than him in his locker.

Mike shook his head. "No that's not what this is, you just have to slip this in her bag or something" He explained and Stan rolled his eyes.

"Why can't you do that?" Stan asked.

"Because it'll be suspicous if she catches me...everyone knows your weird Stan" Mike said and Stan sighed.

"Thanks Mike" Stan said sarcastically, Mike smiled. "Fine...but you owe me" Mike cheered, wrapping his arms around him, jumping excitably.

"Alright, alright" Stan said, breaking free from Mike's embrace. "Here goes nothing"

As Stan walked down the corridor, fiddeling with Mike's love letter in his hand, he let his thoughts complain for him, unable to believe that this was what his life had come to.

Rue was is deep in conversation with Bev and Bill, her bag was resting on the floor, against the wall. As soon as he made eye contact with Bev, he tried to charade to her what he was up to, after an awkward couple of minutes, she got it.

Stan ducked down behind Rue, aware of how much of a nonce it made him look, but opened her bag anyway. He slipped the letter in the bag, he forgot to close it when he stood up so when he got the strap wrapped around his leg and knocked over the bag, it's contents spilled on the floor.

Stan curse under his breath, Bev instantly distracted Rue as Stan quickly put everything until one thing caught his eye...a small wallet, with a couple of vibrant coloured pills. Stan's grip tightened around it, he knew very well that Rue had no medical reasons to be carrying around opoids.

Without thinking he slipped them into his pocket, leaving the scene quickly. He knew Mike wouldn't approve anyway so technically it wasn't stealing, he was doing the right thing.

It all started to make a little sense, Bill saod that Rue would definitly know who was fucked on drugs in the school but would deny it. She wasn't judt observant, she was fucked herself and was fucking others...wait no, he meant she could be like a dealer.

But maybe that meant that Crashmat knew Rue and Rue knew Crashmat. _Fuck_ everything was just so _fucked._

**𓆲**

Bill didn't even flinch when Stan entered his room, his gaze was unmoved from his wall as he lay in bed. Stan was right to pressume he had been lying there since the last time he saw him, he probably hadn't eaten or showered.

"Tell your mum I'm sorry" Stan said, sitting down on the end of Bill's bed "I wasn't able to stop mine from cooking for you lot" Stan picked up the container his mum had given him from his bag and placed it on Bill's desk. 

"I think I could sell them in the illegal weapons trade, could kill a man" Stan said, and Bill hummed in response, which Stan took as a win. "I have the work from today, Mr Davis said you don't have to do the essay but he also said you can have a copy of Richie's to cheer you up a little" 

Stan placed his bag on his bed and Bill looked through it, taking things out and placing them on the floor. Stan hesistated for a moment, before walking around Bill's bed so he could face him. He sat on the floor awkwardly, Bill's gaze burning through his.

"I read your letter" He whispered, softly, none of his words caught up in a stutter. Stan felt his heart stop beating for a second. "It was...everything"

There were moments in Stan's life that if he focused too hard on the way he breathed, he didn't. He knew that he just needed to remember to breathe, and everything would be ok.

Stan wasn't sure what overcame his body, maybe he was breathing a little too much. Whatever it was it let his body fall slowly onto Bill's bed, he curled up and rested beside him. His gaze never left his, they were locked into place. "Why d-do you keep h-helping me?" Bill asked, his words starting to tangle together, Stan knew he was beginning to get nervous. 

His lips didn't ask permission to speak these next, but they didn't care, Stan could bit them harshly afterwards but the damage was already done. "Because _you're_ everything" 

He had meant to say something assuring, like 'You're not alone' or 'You're important' because he knew that Bill's thoughts told him otherwise. _Remember to breathe._

Bill's eyes never left this vunerable and bewildered nature, he looked conflicted for a moment. He opened his hand and revealed what he's been hiding since he went through Stan's bag apparently. Rue's drugs. "W-What a-are these?" He asked and Stan swallowed. _J_ _ust_ _breathe._

"I think they're drugs, I found them in Rue's bag" Stan explained, Bill studied them curiously. 

"M-Makes sense" Bill said. "She r-reserved for r-reason, I g-guess" 

Stan nodded, he hesistated, a small thought that contaiminated and had irriated his mind for a while slippes through. "Do you want to...I don't know, feel something?" He asked. 

Bill didn't look, horrified or offended by the idea, more a little taken back by the fact that there was someone else in the world who possibly felt the same apathy as he did. Which Stan was kind enough not to inform him that most people grew up numb, Bill was actually privelaged to feel grief. "I-I've n-never...r-really done t-that before" He said, unable to look Stan in the eyes.

Stan shrugged "Neither" He mumbled. He knew this was a bad idea, this wasn't going to help Bill, not really. But it's old news that within the conflict of Stan's mind, the reasonable side never one. 

It wouldn't be the first time he thought he was a sociopath, but then again he was here and he wrote that letter. "Ok, let's h-have a g-g-go together" Bill said, smiling a little.

They had both seen enough films to figure out how this worked, but neither of them had seen anything that told them what would happen next. 

  
It's like a ritual, a routine, it's nearly the same for everyone. There's a reason why people fall deep for the prospect of euphoria.

There was a moment of nothing and then suddenly, without moment, then it happens...you breathe and the next thing you know is your breath starts to slow and every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have. 

And everything stops: your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, and wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then you give it air again, give it life again. But it's brings back something else. The colour is painted back, brushed over your monochrome sight. 

It's a different palette, with vibrant hues and exotic taste...spiralling in an crafted motion of madness, as though someone was enscribing every essence of watercolour on the surface of my eyelids with an electric-neon knife.

So many different souless tones envoloped around me with a raw energy. The vibrant shades were in perpetual motion, dancing, flowing, changing shade.

The deepest of them was like driftwood, brushing and fading around me like a flickering light. 

Stan sighed heavily and rested on his back, before giggling softly with Bill. "Woah...This is insane" Stan said, completely and utterly in an ocean of wonder. 

Bill giggled. "I have no idea what's going on" He said as he turned to face Stan. "You're full of glitter" 

Stan laughed with him, "I'm full of glitter...wait, what if we all are, like the stars are all part of us" He rambled and Bill giggled again. 

"Maybe, but what if the stars are like us, parts of us that have drifted to the sky? Like our hopes and dreams?" He suggested and Stan thought for a moment. "Something we could have" 

"Like our story?" Stan guessed, his voice raising pitch a little like when I child is given ice cream. 

Bill nodded. "Of course" He confirmed, nodding quickly. "We're always the stars together...no that doesn't sound poetic, that doesn't make sense" 

Stan smiled "Nothing makes sense...especially not poetry and especially not romantic poetry" Stan said. "Like Romeo and Juilet"

"That play is poetry" Bill said, his eyes glistening "How would you know have you ever fallen deep?" 

Stan giggled. "I don't think so..or maybe I am, it's all so confusing I think my head's going to explode" He said, gesturing his mind exploding with his hands. "Love shouldn't be an Agatha Christie novel, have you fallen deep?" 

"I think I'm falling" Bill said honestly "I'm just not really sure if I know who I'm falling for" 

"Poetic" Stan muttered, unable to add much more, mainly because he felt that Bill was just reading Stan's thoughts right now and also his mind was completely occupied with Bill's confession. "Who are you falling for?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Bill teased and Stan frowned. 

"Yes...yes I would" Stan pressed and Bill seemed to find this incredibly amusing. 

"Doesn't matter...people like me don't fall with someone, we fall to our deaths, alone" He said, his tone two cheery for the words that escaped him. "I always fall deep for the worst people" 

"Oh" Stan muttered. So it was confirmed, he didn't have to worry about falling for two different people anymore. He wasn't really sure why he wasn't relieved. Maybe it was because he was high. Yeah, drugs."Oh fuck" 

_Remember to breathe._


	13. {Bad Decisions}

  
Apparently, if you have nothing, you pretend to have everything.

If you are powerless, you pretend you're in control and that every little shitty thing that happens, your mind tells you that's the way you want it.

Stan thought that was the sort of mindset that occurs when people like him, people who lived in Derry found an excuse to celebrate. In case you were confused, fireworks, burning things in a bonfire, itchy face paint and shit loud music, that no one would never willingly listen to...but get hyped up about it if it's played out loud, was all part of the package that came with that strange day.

Since, as a small shit hole, they hadn't done much, the closest thing to an achievement they had gained, was the day when Conner had started his strange attack plan on Bowers, a year to the day. It wasn't much, they no longer annoyed the whole school due to this, and spent their time terrorizng the town instead. So, a lot less Purgey and more of a shitty spin off. The whole school was there.

"Richie is giving fireworks to seven year-olds" Bev said when she found Stan amongst the crowds and passing him a pint glass whilst they both waved their flags a long with a strange cover of the Strokes.

"Don't worry, they'll be more responsible withthem then he would" He said, she laughed, resting her free arm on his shoulder and they danced as best as they could without spilling their drinks.

"Rue's been looking for you" Bev said and Stan froze, nearly dropping his drink as he did so. 

"She has?" Stan asked, trying his best to hide his worry in his voice, but unlike the common belief in Tumblr, his best was never good enough in these scenarios. Strangely enough, Stan's fear had an odd habit of presenting itself in his thoughts within song, his mind repeating _SHE KNOWS, SHE KNOWS_ , in the tune of I Know What You Did Last Summer. Which was frustrating as Stan didn't even like that song, well not publicly anyway. 

"Yeah, she's been doing everyone's face paint" Bev said gesturing to her cheeks which were brushed over with glitter and spiralled with vibrant colours. "She wants us all to be matching for the group photo"

Stan sighed in relief, "Ah-ah" Stan laughed, well that was intention but the remaining nerves gave it the same tune, he cursed them under his breath. "I mean, that's why I was hiding from her, don't fancy it"

"Ok..." Bev muttered, not really convinced. "Anyway, Ben accidently let slip that Richie may be using this as an opportunity to find that Crashmat of yours, as the entire school is here" Stan frowned.

"How would that work? Wouldn't that make it a lot harder?" Stan asked and Bev shrugged, before she, and everyone around them got all hyped up as the band started playing Franz Ferdinand, Take Me Out, singing the tune loudly. 

"Well, Ben may have also accidently told me who there suspect was" She shouted over the music. 

"I'm starting to think you're exploiting your boyfriend" Stan shouted back and she laughed. 

"So I think we should try to beat them to it, or you know, find out their outcome!" She shouted, jumping around to the music. 

"Who do they think it is?" Stan shouted, almost being knocked over by people around him, them pushing him into Bev, who steadied him by holding onto his shoulder.

"This kid called Lucas, you remember him?" Bev asked and Stan shrugged, his brain not really functioning properly as he was...incredibly hungover to say the least, even after two days. "He's the one who you sit next to in French, the one works at the coffee shop and draws birds in your coffee for you?"

"I think so...what's he got to do with any of this?" Stan asked, someone almost knocking his drink out of his hand. 

"Kid's a genral nerd, but apparently really likes English, won a prize for his Crime Poetry essay" She explained. "Got two phones, so you wouldn't know if you were texting him...and Rue told me that he used to deal drugs to pay for his sister's medicine"

Stan thought for a moment, "Ok, we'll check it out, but first let me check Crashmat to see if he's actually here...I don't want to spend forty minutes trying to get out of this crowd for nothing" He said "I don't even know how we would"

"We'll starting moving now and you can text him on the way, kill two birds with one stone..." She began and Stan glared at her "I mean...no birds, we don't harm them" Stan let this one slide, giving her the benefit of the doubt. Bev gained some inspiration from the people around them and found the best way for them to stick together and not go all Titanic and lose each other in a pointless way, Stan sat on her shoulders, navigating them through the crowds. It was safe to say, Bev was the one who benefited with a growth spurt in her teenagers years and Stan didn't.

**So, how are you finding the party?**

**Alright I won a big teddy bear**

**Really?**

**Yh well Richie did 4 me**

**I didn't know you were friends with him**

**Eh technically**

**Alright, Bev needs me, I'll see ya**

**Bye**

By some miracle, they managed to make it safely out of the mosh pit, and to a more clearer area near some charity games such as darts with Henry's face on or bumper cars. Stan scouted the area, for some cursed reason, winning a big teddy bear here was a lot easier than expected. "Hey Lucas" Bev said, dragging Stan across towards the coffee artist, who was standing next to the Ice Cream van, which for some reason was being run by his sister, and two older students. 

"Hey Beverly" He said "I'm not queuing, you can go ahead" He gestured to the ice cream van. Bev smiled and both her and Stan went to buy an ice cream. 

"How did you win that?" Stan asked, gesturing to the giant dog teddy that was resting behind his sister, "Thought they were impossible to win?"

"Richie had a bet with Will or something about whether he was the champion and darts or basketball, I don't know. He ended up winning like thirty prizes and just gave them to whoever was around" Lucas said, and Stan tried not to scream out in frustration, so his suspects had gone up to thirty possibilties? The universe really hated him, didn't it. 

"Don't you work at the coffee shop?" Bev asked, looking over to Stan in attempt to pressure him into focusing. 

"Yeah" Lucas said "Worked there for about two years, no big deal"

"It kind of it, you're very talented" Stan said, "The birds you made in my coffee was amazing"

Lucas smiled "Yeah, while Richie was annoying you in the line, I think he mentioned something about your passion for birds so I went for it" He explained and Stan couldn't help but smile.

"It isn't that good" His younger sister, Erika, if Stan wasn't mistaken. "That cat you did this morning for that grandma this morning was low, even for you"

"Erika..." Lucas began, and she gave them all a bored glance. 

"Oh so you do that regulary?" Bev asked and he nodded.

"Yeah, some entertainment" He said, laughing to himself, before picking his phone out of his pocket to answer a message, trying to stop Erika from stealing his ice cream at the same time. 

"Hey is everyone alright?" Conner asked, appearing out nowhere, nearly making Stan visibly jump, what was weirder than that magic act was that he was with Bill who was holding another one of Richie's prizes he assumed. Stan couldn't really tell if anyone else could tell that Bill was incrdibly uncomfortable here, 

"Yeah we are" Bev said, "Hey, I don't know if you two have met, Conner, Bill this is Lucas he goes to another school across Derry, Lucas this is..."

Now I'll tell you, Stan was way too cynical to believe that romantic affairs that meant something existed, let alone the idea of love at first side appearing outside of terrible rom coms.

He felt it before he saw it, there was a moment, when all the noise and shouting faded away, the only sound being the faint piano of Head Over Heels, the only thing that mattered, amongst the feeling.

"...Conner" Bev continued, but she really didn't need to. Because in that moment, it looked like whatever the music, the lyrics gave Lucas, seemed to become a person, and that person was suddenly standing in front of him and he was completely lost.

And as for Conner, it was as though nothing else existed, she wasn't really there she was caught up in a daydream, waiting for someone to wake up.

Stan gave a knowing look to Bill and Bev, trying to hide his smile, "Well this is all fun and all..." Bev began his words completely unaffecting them.

"But we'll be off, we've got some murders to commit" Stan tried, Lucas only hummed in response and Bill smirked.

"He's t-t-terrible" Bill laughed "Helpless r-r-romantic, falls d-deep too f-fast"

"Well is that enough to cross him off the list?" Bev asked, placing her sunglasses at the top of her head.

Stan shook his head "I'm not sure, it's not like we got any answers, he's an English nerd and he may have association with drugs"

Bill raised his eyebrow as Stan said the last part. "He wuh-wouldn't" Bill reassured. "H-He h-has to m-make profits, for h-his family, h-he can't w-waste any of t-the product"

"And would you know that Bill?" Bev asked and Bill smirked.

"Common s-sense"He said simply, tapping his forehead, twice. Bev narrowed her gaze at him, Stan didn't think much of it, other than their shared experience with the issue. "English n-nerd, d-drugs, that's a-all you guys w-want to knoe about p-people, why?"

Bev looked like she was about to explain everything, and Stan gave her a desperate look not to. She frowned, a little confused but she didn't press the issue. "A-Alright, s-something's a-aren't for me to h-h-hear, I g-get it, I'm g-going to go and o-over think about m-made up versions of y-your opinion of me" He said, with a fake smile. "I-I'll see you at the B-Barrons"

"Why not?" Bev asked, as soon as Bill disappeared. "Why don't you want him to know?"

"I don't want him to know that I'm trying to find someone who I may have fallen deep for? You right that's a stupid thing not to mention" Stan muttered sarcastically.

"Shit..."Bev said "Have you got yourself in a love triangle?"

Stan crinkled his nose in disgust, something he seemed to have stolen from Bill. "No! He has enough problems of his own. I was planning on tell him, he was on our team than he kept bailing so I never got round to it so just gave in"

"Sure Stan" Bev said, with a small smirk "You've always been an reliable narrator"

"That, I have"

**𓆲**

Stan rested his hand on the rough paintwork that coatd the door and pushed. Rough wooden splinters cut into his palm; shards of black paint crumbled to the floor. The hinges squealed and for some reason Stan's go to thought was that this was some how reletable. 

Ben and Mike had seemed to have reserved them a few stools, amongst the crowd of their school mates, obviously not enough for all of the Losers. 

Richie was annoying Eddie by requesting songs he hated and ordering him a Fruit Shoot juice instead of beers. Lucas and Conner were deep in conversation on the otherside of the room.

The problem was, although this part was reserved for Mike's close friends and he organized this, it was still a little too overcrowded as Mike was friends with everyone. 

As Stan weaved through the crowd, the laughter around him seemed to distort the records, and conversationss seemed to swirl in a dirty cloud of smoke, the stagnant stench of cigarettes hiden within the collaboration of the sharp smell of drinks polluted him. But it was home, because it reminded him of Richie and Bev.   


Eventually he managed to find Bev, who who was in deep in a conversation with Bill. She spotted Stan and smiled, Bill tried to the same but he was distracted. 

He gave Bev a knowing look and she nodded. "I'll go and get us some drinks" She said, leaving quickly, Stan took her seat. 

"Look, I didn't want to exclude you Bill, I hope you aren't mad..."Stan began, shifting uncomfortably in seat, unsure how to phrase his next thoughts. "It's just...I'm going through something, minor very minor but I still felt it was unfair to put that on you, after everything..."

"I'm not mad Stan" Bill said, and Stan smiled, loving that he seemed to stutter less and less the more he was around Stan, when it was just them two. "I get it, you barely know me, don't worry. Just know y-you can tell me things, I don't w-want you to feel like your problems are i-insignificant to mine" 

Well that was it, he could tell Bill, he could recruit him or whatever the fuck. But he didn't, for some reason Stan couldn't find the words to tell Bill he had fallen for someone, someone that wasn't sitting in front of him now. It didn't feel right. "Thanks Bill, but really it was nothing, kind of those personal shit you can only tell Bev, because it's embarassing" 

Bill grinned. "We've a-all be there" Bill laughed. Fuck, Bill never really laughed anymore, he didn't laugh at Richie or Bev, or even in his strange secretive friendship with Rue. He laughed with Stan. _Oh fuck, that was never a good sign._

"How does Mike have so many friends?" Stan said, turning around to observe the room, changing the subject to hide his flushed cheeks. 

Bill laughed softly, _fuck again._ "H-He's fun, and cheery all the time, he w-works well with everyone" He explained, resting his palm beneath his chin, focusing his gaze on Stan, even though Stan couldn't meet it. 

Stan couldn't exactly explain it, maybe he'd get Bill to do that in the future for him. Other than the worse thing he could contribute to Pinterest shitty quotes, but it wasn't like anyone was reading his thoughts. Bill staring at him made him feel like a Lana Del Rey song. There he said it. 

"I had a dream about Mike last night" Stan said. 

"We've had _that_ d-dream about Mike" Bill said and Stan's eyes widened, he turned around to nudge him. 

"No...I meant he was hosting a kid's birthday party...why does everyone think it's always a sexual dream?" Stan complained and Bill couldn't stop laughing. 

"Because it usually i-is"He said, between breaths of laughter. 

"Oh my..." Stan groaned, resting his head in his hands. "I hate you"

"I-I'm convinced" Bill said, with a smirk, which Stan thought was highly unfair, Bill couldn't be miserable all the time unless he was bullying Stan. 

He was about to tell him his very good witty comeback, if he did say so himself, that he formulated in his head, but tragically Richie had got the karaoke machine. 

"nOw tHeN mArDy bUm..." He began singing terribly, to embarass Eddie who he had his arm around him. "i'Ve SeEn yOu'Re fRoWn AnD iT's lIkE lOoKiNg dOwM a BaRrAl oF a GuN aNd It GoEs oFf" 

Eddie looked like he was about to die, and for some reason, as some form of character development Stan didn't know. Maybe it was Bill, maybe it was Eddie, but he decided to save Eddie. " _And out come all these words..."_ He began, making I contact with Bev who rolled her eyes but joined in. " _Oh there's a very pleasant side to you, a side I much prefer"_

By this point, people started to join in, Eddie looked revealed and joined in as well. Richie looked annoyed at first, when he realized he could no longer embarass Eddie, but seemed to enjoy himself whe he joined in with everyone else. _"One that laughs and jokes around, remember cuddles in the kitchen to get things off the ground..."_

Bill was the last to join in, and for the first time, since Georgie was found and maybe since he went missing in the first place, minus drugs, Bill looked relaxed and actually...happy. " _And it was up, up and away_  
 _Oh, but it's right hard to remember thatOn a day like today"_

Stan thought that in that moment, if he could, he'd do anything to never make this moment, this moment of Bill happy, end. _When you're all argumentative and you've got the face on._ Until he realized that for the most of the time, what made Bill smile, what made Bill laugh, what mad Bill happy was _him?_

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck._


	14. {Soundtrack To Disaster}

  
Now let me make this perfectly clear, this wasn't Stan's fault, well at least, that's what he told himself.

 _Well how could it be?_ He'd tell himself, he couldn't plan for this, this wasn't the sort of situations that people like Stan...people who weren't dry protagonists in a shitty rom-com, found themselves in.

Stan's pressence was never important enough for him to need to have loyalties. It wasn't like he had to prove his commitment to friendship, he just had to tolerate Richie's jokes and then, just like that he was a saint.

He certaintly didn't have people fighting for his affection...Stan wasn't exactly the affectionate type. But now, he had a strange situation, where he was a growing an affection for two different people.

One who he didn't even know, and another one who was completely broken. Which was chaotic in itself, Stan didn't know why suddenly he found himself protective and caring over Bill, maybe it was because everyone else he liked could care for themselves.

He wasn't sure why Stan was something that could have a positive impact on Bill, he was apathetic to most things and cynical. But for some reason, it was what Bill needed, someone to say it how it is and not feed him with false messages of hope. He let him grieve.

Maybe because Stan didn't question his behaviour, he had no right to, Stan's behavoiur sometimes seemed borderline sociopathic, but it wasn't ever really. Everything bored him that was it. Bill didn't.

He spent his days either distracting Bill from his pain, by telling him stories about birds or his latest Buzzfeed unsolved binge or just sit next to him doing nothing, while Bill stared at things.

That was what was happening in that moment, Stan was lying on the opposite end of Bill on his bed, their gazes both meeting the end point on Bill's ceiling. "You know it's the only way good things last forever..." Stan muttered outloud, not really thinking again.

"W-What?" Bill mumbled.

"To lose things, in some fucked up way, it's the only way you'll only have the good moments in your memories" He explained. "Nothing's ever perfect, but when you lose things, only then your memories tell you that they were perfect"

"T-That's fucked up" Bill muttered, but he could feel him smirk a little beside him. Stan averted his gaze away from the ceiling and connected it back to Bill, who was lying on his side, curled up and resting his head against a small turtle cushion. "But s-sort of poetic"

Stan smiled, turning to his side so he could mirror Bill's position, a small smile slipped onto Bill's lips too. "What do you want?"

"A distraction, a b-big one" He whispered and Stan grinned.

"That's a big wish, I hope you used it wisely" Stan said, because for some reason he purposefully said things, in the hope of making Bill smile.

"How m-many do I get?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

"That's one of three" Stan said, "But don't worry, neither of us want you to run out"

Bill frowned, his nose creasing. "W-Why not?" He asked.

"Cause then I'd have to make even more shitty excuses to hang out with you" Stan said, hoping that maybe that will settle his internal conflict, confirm or deny anything just so he could make some progress in his head. Bill's reaction didn't provide this, he just laughed as if Stan was being ridiculous.

_Fuck, this is going to harder than I thought it would be. Which is saying something, because I thought it was going to be very difficult._

"So what are we going to do?" Bill asked, sitting up. "It's the middle of the night"

"Something stupid probably" Stan said with a grin. 

**𓆲**

"Are you s-sure this is a good idea?" Bill asked as he struggled to tie his laces, his hands shaking too much.

"Nope, but it's part of Bev's bucket list...which is probably from Pinterest, what's the worst that can happen?" Stan shrugged, leaning over and tie Bill's laces for him.

"Well I a-a-already thought we were g-going to d-die when s-security almost caught u-us sneaking in" He said, leaning back a little as Stan tied his other lace.

"You're a little dramatic, has anyone ever told you that?" Stan asked with a smile and Bill pouted.

"No I-I-I'm n-n-not" He blushed his words getting tangled in a stutter as the heat flooded into his cheeks.

"Sure..." Stan smirked. "You ready?"

Bill sighed. "I g-guess this w-will be a f-fun way to d-die"He said, only proving Stan's point further. Stan stood up, holding onto the wall to maintain some form of balance. Stan had never rollerskated before and neither had Bill apparently.

It's not that difficult of a concept, Stan thought, therotically it shoulf be like sliding around in Tesco, like every kids.

Bill stood up, a little too quickly, instantly wobbling and nearly slipped over if he didn't hold onto Stan's arm by reflex. He awkwardly recomposed himself and Stan tried not to laugh.

"You ready?" Stan asked and Bill nodded, holding on to the end of his sleeves that were too big for him, like paws.

They set off at the same time, pushing their feet forward and grabbing on to each other everytime one of thrm slipped. But they we both lacked balance or strength it instantly ended up with them collapsing onto the floor in a pit of laughter.

"Oh, we're t-terrible" Bill said inbetween breaths of laughter. They managed to help each other back to their feet.

"I think this may kill me" Stan laughed, they held onto each other tightly as they set off again.

"W-Who's being dramatic n-now?" Bill teased, slipping as he did so, landing in Stan's arms.

"Still you" Stan said, unable to pack away his laughter at Bill's reaction to almost falling over again.

As Bill and Stan were the only ones out of the handful people there who weren't pensioners, they were the loudest element there. Which was saying something...Stan and Bill.

There personal best was about six seconds without falling over, there was a sort of rule between them that if one of them fell over they had to drag the othet with them. So they could both laugh at each other.

Bill seemed to grow more comfortable the idea, focusing less on whatever polluted his mind and more on his surroundings, and more on the facts...the world was still moving. He stopped holding onto Stan frantically, his hand remaining in his all the same.

"I t-think I'm getting b-b-" Bill began, before slipping and crashing into Stan, sending them both into the wall.

"You were saying?" Stan grinned and Bill pouted again. They recomposed themselves, continuing to move. As it really was only retired skaters here, the music choice...was ancient to say the least. "God, what is this music?"

Bill pretended to look offended, placing a hand to his chest. "How d-dare you, i-it's brilliant" He shuffled a little, pretending to mime the lyrics...even though he didn't know them. Stan rolled his eyes, but spun him around, which was a bad idea as that resulted in them both ending up on the floor.

"Oh f-fuck, I t-think I broke my skull" Bill said, trying to look serious, which was difficult as he was still laughing.

"I'm sure it won't make much of a difference if you did" He said, Bill nudged him, but they were still unable to stop laughing, lying next to each other on the floor. As they really were the loudest thing there, even over the shit music, and their position was a fire hazard...and they hadn't actually paid for a ticket, it wasn't long before they were both kicked out. 

**𓆲**

"Bill I think you're weirder than me" Stan said as Bill dragged him by his hand, down the back ally's. 

"I'm h-hungry" He tried to defend himself, and Stan laughed at him. 

"It's the middle of the night...the Barrens aren't going to be open" Stan said and Bill smirked. 

"D-Doesn't have to b-be" He said, Stan frowned for a moment, almost contemplating his whole existance before throwing it out of the window... let himself follow Bill to the back door, to the kitchens, which was surprisingly easy to sneak into. Stan reall didn't want to know why Bill was so good and picking locks and breaking into places...but he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. 

  
"This was your great plan?" He asked cynically, as he shut the door behind them, the last flicker of light from the hallway fades, darkness falls over it like a velvet blanket and all that’s left was the neon sings and city lights, that throws subtle green beams across the the glass and themselves.

"Yup" He said, jumping the counter and opening the fridge to study it's contents.

"Do you know how to cook?" Stan asked.

"W-We'll find out" He smirked, which wasn't so obvious in the darkness,  
swirling mist with soft blurred edges. But it was a sixth sense.

He began scouting the cupboards, picking out basic stuff that people cook with. Neither of them were on the tall side, so to reach the stuff on the top shelf Bill had to sit on Stan's shoulder.

Stan was unable to fall out of place, under the soft wonder of this side of Bill...the side Bev once talked about. The reckless wonder.

He was in his own little world, concentrating as he whisked and measured, "You going to help?" He didn't stutter once, and with his tone a little above his usual whisper, more relaxed and more clearer it seemed a little familiar, like hearing a song from your childhood.

Maybe he did know Bill before this is.

"It be best for both of us if I didn't" He said, dipping his finger in the mix and tasting it. Bill wacked his hand away.

"Stop that" He said and Stan grinned, doing it again. "What a-a-are you the arsonist t-type or something?"

"Possibly" Stan teased and Bill grinned.

"Maybe y-you could cook for Richie then" He said and Stan laughed softly, but he was more distracted.

"You're stutter's fading, and you sound...different" Stan said, tilting his head to the side.

"Thanks for the u-update" He said, with a smirk, but sighed a little. "I don't know...you s-sort of, keep m-me in a m-moment, where I don't remember the past, no pain or the future, no worry"

"Apparently that's never a good thing" He said, and Bill leaned over to the table, resting his elbows on the surface.

"Nothing's ever a g-good thing" Bill said. "Nothing's ever really bad"

"Nothing ever exists" Stan said, picking the spoon out of the bowl and licking off the batter, Bill sighed, not even bothering to fate him on that.

"Pass me some more flour" He said.

Stan put the spoon down, dumping the flour bag next to him, accidently creating some form of flour volcano, a cloud of flour rising to meet him like a nuclear blast. He blinked a couple of times. "It was an accident, I swear" He said, putting his hands up in surrender, laughing.

Bill sighed, walking around him , presumably to clean up the flour. But instead he was left with a mountain of flour falling down his face.

"Oops" He said sarcastically before returning back to his side with another smirk on his face.

Their eyes met and Stan gave him a challenging glance, which he accepted. There was a moment of silence as they both wondered who was going to dare to make the first move.

Stan was quick to move, grabbed the flour bag and threw it at Bill's face before trying to escape the crime scene.

But he didn't get too far as Bill managed to flick some back and began to chase him with the whole bowl of batter.

Stan had nearly escaped the kitchen by the time Bill had thrown the bowl over his head. Stan groaned with disgust but couldn't stop laughing at the same time and when he tried to turn around and throw some batter on Bill, he slipped on the floor batter, dragging Bill down with him. They both ended up in a fit of laughter and Bill kept flicking batter on his face.

Another moment, and the moments before are nothing, they both forgot who they were and this wasn't what they did. Bill was some how able to save some batter, and didn't waste all of it by throwing it over Stan and managed to cook a few small pancakes.

Stan made it up for it, by covering them in a mountain of sweets and chocolate and it ended up looking like afinal boss in some sort of Candy Crush video game. "You're r-running it" Bill said and Stan rolled his eyes. "Why would you do t-that?"

"My parents never let me have this much shit, apparently makes me psychotic, so I'm making up for it" He shrugged, dipping a marshmallow in the whipped cream "It’s reckless"

"It’s a fun trip to d-d-diabetes town" He said and Stan grinned as hr threw a mini Oreo in the air which obviously missed his mouth and hit his eye.

"It'll be worth it" Stan said, whislt chewing.

"I can't take you seriously like that Poirot" He laughed and Stan looked at my reflection, before pretending to groom the cream moustache he had.

"You’re just jealous" Stan said "That you’ll never be able to achieve this look"

"Psst, h-how dare you, m-m-mine's better" He said, using his finger to add his own, put completely missed and ended up accidently inhaling it and the cream to drip down his chin.

There were a few footsteps, and the sound of voices getting louder outside the door. "Ok, t-that'll be us d-done" Bill said, quickly standing up from the table and beginning the leave, Stan followed him, but went back to take the pancakes with him. They both climbed out the window.

To make matters worse, as if running down an allyway whilst trying to balance food wasn't difficult enough, his phone began to ring. And when it didn't stop, Stan decided it wad an emergency. "What?"He hissed.

"We may need to work togethet Stanthony" Richie said, sounding a little panicked.

"What, why?" He asked.

"It's Crashmat...we have some evidence that suggests that..." He sighed heavily on the other end of the phone.

"What Richie?" Stan asked.

"We think Henry Bowers"

Oh he hoped this wasn't his fault.


	15. {Dance Little Liar}

  
Ok, so it should be noted that at this point in time that Stan was unsure how to tell a well-structured story when his life was completely and utterly fucked in chaos.

At this point Stan felt like his life was a shitty low budget show on Netflix, and he was on like season five where the writers were making up dumb shit to keep the plot interesting...but it didn't make any sense to anyone, especially not to Stan. His very own Riverdale...Standale.

"Why the fuck....how the fuck...what the fuck..." Stan panicked, pacing up and down Richie's room, where Bev, Mike, Eddie and Ben had also joined him and Richie in this Losers club emergency. Stan did feel bad that he ditched Bill...litterally, he ran in that moment Richie called him.

But this was an emergency, and Stan was in panic mode, aka, self-destruct mode. "We can only answer one at a time Stan...and we need you to breathe" Richie tried to calm him down and Stan glared at him.

"Ok, ok" Stan muttered, placing his hands behind his head in an attempt to calm himself down. "Why, let's go with why?"

Richie sighed, looking over to Bev, as if he was too tired to go through this emotional trauma more than once. "We talked to Rue, apparently, to no one's surprised whatsoever, Bowers is fucked deep in drugs" She said "They talk apparently, something to do with his relationship with his dad"

"Ok, old news the guy's fucked up in more ways than that, it doesn't mean shit" Stan said, gnawing the sleeves of his hoodie as he panicked.

Mike gabe him a sympathetic look, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Richie says he was one of the people who won a bear off him..."

"And after a few eavesdropping sessions and minor offences of breaking into the English staffroom..." Eddie said, the tone in his voice suggesting that no, no it was not minor for him and yes, yes he did panic as if he was set on fire.

"We found that he's been writing English essay's in his spare time...we got Bill to read them...the kid's an ultimate nerd, certificate by the expert himself" Ben said, and Stan felt his entire body drown in itself.

"No, no, no" Stan muttered to himself. "So what? They all line up, that doesn't mean shit, it doesn't...it can't, don't you think I would've known-"

"How Stan?" Richie asked. "How would've you known? No one is blaming you, don't worry"

Stan sighed, leaning against the wall and sinking to the floor, holding his head in his hands. Richie sat down next to him, wrapping arms around his shoulders before Stan sunk into him resting his head on his lap. "What the fuck do I do know?" He asked.

"What we've done everytime there's a new suspect, try to prove it isn't them" Richie said, running his finger through Stan's hair, in a rhythmic pattern that wouldn't disupt anything in his head, no internal consequences.

Stan sat up, giving him a small smile. "Momentary truce?"Richie suggested "We'll work together this time?"

Stan's smile grew, "The world better watch out though...when we're a team...everyone loses" He said, before they participated in an improvised, awkward handshake...which we'll pretend was as cool as Stan's life, for the sake of both of their self-esteems.

"I hope that doesn't mean that it's you two that we'll be relying on for a plan" Bev said.

"No, world domination isn't on the agenda today" Richie grinned. "You'll be leading, but we're taking Rue with is...we're going to have trap him...Mike?"

Mike thought for a moment. "I don't control who comes to my parties, Bowers and his gays could've come and I may not have noticed if he stayed quiet. But I suggest we take some precautions...who knows we might find ourselves having to interact with the devil himself" He lowered his voice.

"YEEEEESSSS!" Ben cheered and everyone turned around quickly, to stare at him, startled. "Sorry...Cold War history text book was on offer, I also got some glow sticks with it...what were you talking about?"

Bev tried to hide her grin but gave in, "I love you" She laughed, wrappinh her arms arounf him, pecking his cheek. 

"So how are we going to do this? You know without getting ourselves fucking killed?" Eddie panicked and Richie causually gave him his inhaler...how those two weren't already married yet, Stan would never know. "I'd have to make a risk assesment...and bring my third fanny pack, and an ambulance on hold"

"We're going to be fine Eds..." Richie said, pushing hid glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Don't call me that" Eddie complained, between taking puffs of his inhaler.

"I have an idea..." Stan said "You're not going to like it, but we're going to need someone else, someone who knows Bower better than anyone else.

**𓆲**

"What do you want?" Conner asks, his frustration only being directed towards Bev for some reason. "Here for another petty unreasonable revenge power move?" 

"What's he talking about?" Ben asked and Bev shrugged, a small smirk crawling through her lips. 

"I still didn't trust that he wanted to be my friend, so I kept trying to antagonize him see if I could get him to reveal if he had an evil motive" Bev explained and Conner rolled his eyes, folding his arms. "I think it started in food tech when I 'accidently' spilt flour all over him, but it seemed a little convient as it was straight after he had accidently walked into me making me drop all of my cupcakes. After that it was a never ending series of getting back at each other, paint in each other's bags, gum on seats, ink in food...you name it" 

"Oh so that's what that prank was about" Stan muttered. "I feel like I live in a completely different universe from all of you...how did I not know about this?" Bev shrugged. 

"This has nothing to do with Bev" Mike said, Bev frowned, as if she was surprised there wad such a thibg "Sorry...but this is to do with Stan, you've got nothing against Stan right? Apart from the fact he's a little weird, sometimes apathetic-"

"Mike..." Stan muttered, causing him to apologise "We need your help, we've got a big problem...you fancy being a Loser for a night?"

"I'm assuming my decision will decode whether or not Bev will stab me with that pen she's holding agressively?" Conner asked raising his eyebrow, Stan nodded. "Looks like we're a team" 

**𓆲**

The bass thundered through Stan as he made his way into Mike's house, in time with his heart beat and foot steps as though they were one. 

Along the dark room hundreds of vibrant colours, illuminating with their flickering changes in shape. The light was cast every colour by the tinted panes. 

  
**Hey Crashmat are**  
 **you here tonight?**

**Yeee**

**Where's your hiding**   
**place?**

**Near the stairs**

  
**Okie dokie**

Stan got himself a drink, because he felt a little less awkward wondering around the house without holding something.

**Here**

**I see you👀**

**Nonce**

**Haha fuck off**

"How are you doing?" Stan asked the dark figure leaning against the stairs, squinting a little in an attempt to try to see anything that would help him. 

"Terribly, but you know brilliant at the same time" Crashmat said, sitting on the banister, not caring of the inconvience it would cause...still a little fair stretched to be Bowers. "School's shit, but people are good" 

"I get it" Stan said, leaning against the banister, checking his watch cautiously. 

"What about you?" Crashmat asked and Stan sighed. 

"My life's torn between fucked and slightly less fucked" Stan said "But I'm enjoying it somehow" 

"Oof, maybe you could be part of the next episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved" He said, and Stan could feel him smile as he nudged him softly, almost knocking him off the bannister. "And the episode after being...whether or not you're going to prom" 

Stan laughed. "That was not smooth whatsoever" He said, glad it was dark for once, or he'd see how red his face had gone. Unless it was Bowers, _remember that Stan._ "I hate prom, but I have to go because of a bet I had with Richie" 

"What bet?" He asked, curiousity getting the better of him, like it always dead. _Someday,_ Stan's thoughts warned him. _Someday that curiousity is going to be a heavy load...to heavy for him._

"Nothing important" Stan lied. 

"Ok...well why do you hate it so much?" Crashmat asked and Stan rolled his eyes, getting ready to recite his internal monolouge that he's crafted over years of pain. 

"Nothing happens it's boring, just the Maths teacher as a DJ plannig shit charts music awkwardly with everyone huddling up in groups at the sides of the room being too self-concious to dance" Stan explained cynically. "And if anyone's having a worse time than us, it's Mr Davis, who makes up for it by being a pain in the arse, worst part is we're only allowed two alocholic drinks each, so we can't even get pissed to get through it" 

Crashmat laughed. "You're very passionate about your hate, it's adorable" He said, Stan blushed... _Bowers_ and then there were no longer any colour in his cheeks. "But shit music...I'd have to disagree with you, I usually make the playlist for the Maths teacher to make it a little more bareable. I'm concerned with your music taste" 

Stan sighed. "I don't really have a music taste, I just listen to the radio, I don't have any speakers, Spotify premiuim...as Spotify likes to remind me everyday and Apple is not getting anymore of my music. I usually end uo listening to the CD's I already have in my house, the one's we used to buy before we could just listen on our phones...so we're talking either parent's shit,kids bop or Now That's What I Call 2010...a lot of Katy Perry and JLS" 

"You say that like that' s a bad thing...it's nostalgic, you'd feel like you did when you were younger, when you could feel things" Crashmat said, Stan could see the light reflect off the glass of his beer bottle as he drank. 

"What music fo you listen to?"Stan challenged.

"Everything, I can't love too much of the same thing, done more than once it's no longer special."He said "I have to find new music everyday, I think they're more songs on my playlist than seconds I've been alive for. It's not enough though, everytime I find a new song that makes me feel things I wear it out until I feel nothing"

Stan frowned. "You have to have preference, a particular band or something"

Crashmat thought for a moment, hesistant. "Well disaster boy, the best songs are always b-sides that never made a band's final cut in an album...something they were too anxious to release into the mainstream music. Best things are always hidden" 

Stan smiled. "I guess so, would be nice to hear what they were so worried about, what caused them the anxiety" The moment ended with the _beep beep_ of Stan's watch, plan into action. "Do you want to dance?" He asked. 

"What? Since when did we dance?" Crashmat asked, a little amused, Stan shrugged. 

"Since I've started having my mid-life crisis" He said grabbing his hand and Crashmat let himself melt into Stan's touch as he weaved them through the crowds. 

They began to jump around like idiots, barely hearing themselves as we sung along to the lyrics, Crashmat purposefully getting them wrong to piss off Stan. 

The music slowed down, into the soft morseo of Lana Del Rey. Stan wrapped his hands around his neck, swaying from side to side, slowly to the music. 

Stan's gaze met his and suddenly, his mind wasn't safe anymore. The lights fell into a light trance, everything wanted to disappear under his gaze, Crashmat became the Northern Lights. And everything around him radiadated beneath him: dry-ice smoke swirled an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks and gold.

The light did reveal something...blue, his eyes were blue. Bowers eyes weren't blue. Although the lights were atifical, and had a habit of distorting the colours in this period of time. Stan didn't know this and this moment, nor would he know this for a while. 

Bowers eyes weren't blue. It was a little late for that revelation, as the Losers had already completed the plan, having trapped Bowers in the corner, attacking him with silly string. 

The idea was to trap him and Crashmat in different places, to prove they were too different people, well that wasn't exactly needed anymore. Richie didn't care, he was still too busy laughing like an idiot. 

He was having fun, so Stan let him have that one. But at least now he could switch it up a little and say : _Thank fuck_ instead. 

_Thank fuck._

**A: N: Thank you for reading, I just want to take this moment to address the incidents that have occured in the past week since the last update. I try not to be explicit with the politics I include with my writing but I felt that this had to be addressed.**

**A man was murdered, due to his race. A life has been taken, someone who was alive in the morning is no longer with us. People who are defending the police officers and attacking the protesters aren't even being subtle about their racisim anymore. It is important to educate ourselves in this uncomfortable topic, and important to check our privelage.**

**Although I am have seen relatives experience ethnicity based discrimination, I am not a person of colour so I will never experience racism, I will never lose my life due to racism, I know my privelage. I also know to fight, help stop and understand racism. And if you are in the UK, like myself it is important for us to recognise that our police system is just as currupt.**

**Too many times have people been subjected to racial charged assults, too many people have died. Black lives matter.**

**As for pride fall, all members of the lgbtqa+ community, please stay safe, no one deserves to be harmed based on their identity or who they love.**   
  



	16. {Summertime Sadness}

  
"You can't do this" Stan's Dad said, sitting down on the floor, leaning against his bed. Stan rolled his eyes as he picked another blouse from his wardrobe.

"You said I could, last week, this happens every time Dad, you always agree to something, change your mind and pretend you never agreed in the first place" Stan said, not offended in the slightest of this situation. It was routine by this point.

"Oh come on Stan, you can't leave me on my own" He said and Stan gestured to the suitcase next to him and he passed it to him, still complaining.

"There's still Mum" He said and his dad gave him a knowing look.

"Last time she was in charge she had a party and gave you fireworks...you were eight" Dad said and tried not to smile at the memory.

"I just don't believe it" He heard mum say, he turned to see her leaning against the door frame, looking miserable.

"I'm just going away on a fucking camping trip, why is it so hard for you guys to accept that?" He asked and Dad shrugged his shoulders but Mum didn't react.

"I just can't believe she's gone" She said.

"I haven't left yet and are you going to help-"

"Sometimes I still hear hid voice" She interupted him whilst trying to supress a smile. "But I know it's not real and I now I get his 3D cluedo set" She said walking around his room with her hands in her pockets.

"Absoultely not" Stan said causing him to run after her, stepping inbetween her and the shelf. "Dad can you read out my list again?"

"Which page...or better yet novel?" He asked and Stan rolled his eyes.

Before he could answer, he was saved by his phone. "Hello?"

"H-Hey S-Stan" Bill said, his voice cracking half-way through his name and Stan tried not to melt completely in that moment. "Y-You l-left m-me like t-twenty voicemails, e-everything o-ok?"

"Yeah, you never got back to us when we asked if you were coming on the camping trip" Stan said, pacing up and down his room...because that's what happened when Stan was on the phone, he couldn't stay in one place for some reason.

"Y-You d-ditched m-m-me the o-other day, you r-ran, y-you never t-told me why. I t-thought I h-had said s-something or you h-hated me" He said, his voice trembling ever so slightly and Stan could hear the fear in his voice.

Stan shook his head, even though Bill couldn't see. "No, no, I could never hate Bill, please always know that" Stan said, pushing his Dad away who was making loud kissing noises behind him. "Please, just come with us, it won't be the same without you"

He heard Bill breathing on the other end of the phone as he hesistated, and it crafted Stan's heart into a nervous knot, with hot precission. "F-Fine" He muttered. "I n-need a d-distraction"

"Bill Denbrough you have made me the happiest man on this planet"Stan said, a huge smile on his lips.

"Oh f-fuck off" He mumbled, but Stan knew that certain scrambled of words, that element of tongue tied was Bill trying to hide a blush, even though Stan wasn't there.

"So..." Dad said when Stan hung up, trying to lean casually on the door but ending up looking like a broken close rack with scoliosis. "When's this Bill coming for dinner"

"Nope, absolutely not" Stan said, pushing past them, to make his way down the stairs. "Never in a million years...and it's not what you think, he's just a friend"

His parents waited for him to leave. "Ok, I'm going to abuse my power as school secetary to find Bill's parents number" Mum said and Dad grinned.

"And this is why I married you" He said.

"For reasons that happened after?" She challenged making him frown, confused.

**𓆲**

"Well well well, if isn't the reason we've missed two buses" Richie said pointing at Stan and Bill, who were only really late because of Stan's parents and Bill having to get ready, they both bowed.

"Oh look it's a Richie" Stan said before wrapping his arms around him, giving him a hug, Bill just stood their awkwardly, holding onto the straps of his backpack. 

"What about us?" Mike asked, pretending to be offended, so the two of them shuffled awkwardly towards the rest of them them like penguins so they could join the group hug.

"We really shouldn't be encouraging your late behaviour" Bev said pulling Stan's beanie over his eyes.

While they waited for the next bus, Stan kept himself entertained by watching Richie and Bev challenging each other to climb the bus shelter. Although Richie won, he couldn't figure out how to get back down, whereas Bev was fearless...and experienced at climbing as she had lost her house key that many times.

"You're terrible at this" Stan said, as he lifted his arms up to help Richie get down. Richie held onto his arms to balance himself before jumping and Stan caught him. "It's not that difficult"

"That's coming from you Stan" Ben said with a grin, "There is no way you'd even try to climb that"

Although nearly everything Ben said was true and Stan should really be used to it by now, he was still stubborn enough to say: "I bet I could"

Ben smirked, "I'll take that, first one up and down wins" He said, and Stan thought for a moment, swaying between his feet, trying not to laugh at how weird that made his shadow look. 

"Deal, but I'm telling you Ben, if you somehow manage to beat me, I'd have to personally worship you" Stan said and Ben laughed.

"I'll hold you to that" He said and he did, once, to no one's surprise other than Stan's, Ben won, Stan was stuck in a situation where he had to be overtly positive to someone. It was a challenge in itself to say the least.

**𓆲**   
  


Stan spent the bus journey sitting with Bill, which was quite peaceful, as Bill just curled up beside the window, listening to music, being all Tumblr and shit. Well it was peaceful until Stan needed to find out a way to drown out the sound of Richie and Eddie bickering behind him. 

He took one of Bill's headphones out, causing him to glare at him "What are you listening to?" He asked and Bill placed the headphone in Stan's ear. Sufjan Stevens. "That's depressing shit"

"I-It's not d-depressing" Bill said with a small smile, Stan raised his eyebrow, and Bill pushed him "S-Stop, it's just s-slow, trust me...I h-have a whole p-playlist of depressing shit, this is the s-summer aesthetic p-playlist" Stan couldn't help but grin.

"Music organisation has just improved your position on the Loser's club best music taste list, which I've visualised over the years" Stan said and Bill laughed, shaking his head softly "Top marks obviously for Ben who's music taste, as well as everything else about him is superior with no challenges!" He shouted so Ben could hear him, Ben cheered.   
  


Stan let Bill continue to listen to his depressing music, in an attempt to free himself from being positive to people, he spent the rest of the journey having a window steam painting competition with Ben. Ben won again.

They arrived at the camping spot and after they trekked up the giant muddy hill that asended to earth's outer atmosphere, no one had any energy to put up tents. So they spent the next hour collapsed on the grass.

"No, Mike is not picking the film again this week, he always picks the worst cheesy shit" Eddie said, "Last time he made us watch Dirty Dancing"

"You enjoyed it Eddie and hey not always, remember, you liked Grease" Mike protested and Eddie laughed. 

"I liked John Travolta and I always pick the best films" Eddie said. 

"You pick 80s action films, it's unfair" Bev said, "You pick what everyone already likes"

"Yeah well that's better than what you do" Richie said, defending Eddie as always, "You pick horror films, and everyone is more scared of you than the film to say no"

"And Stan always ruins the atmosphere by laughing at them" Mike said and Stan laughed the memory. 

"Everyone's so stupid in them, like when the person asks if anyone's in their home and the murderer's going to be like 'Yeah I'm in the kitchen cooking omelettes', can't kill on an empty stomach" He said, and he could feel Bill laugh beside him.

"If their is anything we can agree on, it's that everyone is against Stan making us watch violent documentaries and foreign violent thrillers" Mike said, shuddering at the memory "You gave me nightmares, that baby bear had a family, and he was just eaten" 

"That's coming from you Mike, you make me cry for days after you chose, always making us watch some wholesome Disney film about a dog or cat" Richie said, placing a hand to his heart. 

"I-I've never w-watched anything with y-you lot, b-but I can g-guess that Richie c-choses w-weird comedies that a-aren't funny but e-entertaining " Bill said, causing Richie to gasp and throw a load of grass at him.

"How dare you expose me like that" He jumped on top of Bill, tickling him, "What about you Billiam, what would you make us watch when we force you to join our Loser film nights?"

"Bill likes shit romance films" Stan said laughing, Bill grinned and Richie rested on top of Bill, not bothering to move.

"They're entertaining, and usually the imagery is beautiful" He said and Stan rolled his eyes, too cynical for this sort of thing.  
  


Eventually the arguments moved to other ones and as soon as they could all feel their limbs again they took their bikes and went up to the cliffs. "Hey, Ben first one up there wins " Stan said cycling off as quickly as he could.

"Prepare to loose" Ben said chasing after him.

With a head start, Stan won. As soon as they got to the cliff side, they went as close as they could without falling and all stared down at how far the water was.

"Nah, you hit that...water turns to concrete, you die...Conner swore he cracked his head jumping from a cliff on holiday" Eddie said. 

"Yeah because everything Conner says is true" Bev said sarcastically and he stuck his tongue at her.

"Nah, it's around twenty feet...above fifty that's when it turns to concrete" Ben said. "Stan whoever jumps from this first wins"

Stan thought for a moment. Beat Ben with a risk of death? Sounded good to him. 

"I'll take that" He said before taking his jeans and top off, followed by Ben.

"You two are insane" Eddie said "We can't afford a funeral at the moment"

"See you at the bottom, if you're not too scared" Ben said

Eddie looked over the cliff "Nah none of us are that stupid" He said but then turned around to see everyone else had stripped down to their underwear as well.

"And...I'm not suprised" He said taking his shirt off "You lot will be the death of me"

"Whose going first?" Mike asked and we all looked down. "If you angle your body at the right degree and if you-" But he was cut off as Richie pushed him off the cliff causing him to scream.

Then one by one we jumped off. Stan hit the water before Ben did, sinking beneath the surface. Ben gave him a death glare beneath the water, folding his arms and pouting...to which Stan just flipped him off in response. He laughed in the water, bubbles floating around him, he swam towards Stan, grabbing his leg and dragged him further down the water. 

They messed around in the water for a while, splashing water into each other's eyes and dunking each other.

"Hey Bill" Stan said getting his attention before dunking him again. But Stan wasn't that strong so Bill end up tredding water with him on his back, trying to get him off by swimming under the water but was unsuccessful.

"Loser has to put the tents up" Bev said before jumping on Ben's shoulders. Bill swam us closer and the spent the next couple of minutes trying to push each other off. .

Stan manage to last longer than he thought he would, he managed to knock Eddie off of Richie but sadly Mike managed to push him off.

The water grew colder as the sun fell into the afternoon. They used the remaining heat from the sun to dry themselves, as we lay on the grass.

They played a couple of games of football until it was concluded that Stan was no longer allowed to play due to the many bruised legs he created. His whole life has been a lie, his Dad didn't know how to play, clearly or he just broke the rules so he could win whenever they played.

When the sun finally disappeared they all huddled around the fire, with hot chocolate and blankets around them and pajamas. They spent the evening playing Uno and a violent game of Spoons.

Being away from the miserable city was brilliant, mainly because they were able to see the stars a little better than they usually could. One by one, everyone had fallen as sleep as Stan was left alone with his thoughts and the fading stars. 

He heard a shuffle in the blankets next to him, Stan looked to Bill who was the only other person awake, he was staring up at the sky, Stan though the stars suited Bill. 

"You ok?" He asked and Bill looked at him nodding.

"Just c-cold" He muttered and Stan shuffled closer, sharing his blanket with Bill. There was a moment of hesitation before Bill leaned into his touch, curling up against Stan. Stan froze, unsure what to do, maybe it was something to do with his arm, he could move that, he placed his arms around Bill, pulling him closer, yeah that felt right. "How d-do you k-know when t-things are real?"

"What do you mean?" Stan asked, testing his head on Bill's. 

"E-Everything just so f-fucked...I c-can't feel anything..." He mumbled "E-Even when G-Georgie died, n-nothing felt r-real"

Stan felt his fingers run through Bill's hair before his mind calibrated it. "That's cause nothing is real" Stan whispered "You can't tell what is anymore, so instead you trap the past in memory and lose the future...everything is just a moment, nothing before, nothing after. Then, you don't worry about what's real and what's a daydream"

Bill yawned, closing his eyes, curling up tighter in Stan's arms "You were my favourite daydream" He whispered "I wish they were real"

 _You can't have both._ In that moment, Stan suddenly became lost, confused, as though he was the puzzling lyrics behind a slower Arctic Monkeys or Neighbourhood song, he was lost behind something that he will never be able to, or supposed to be able to solve. Stan wasn't safe when he couldn't solve things.  
  



	17. {God Knows I Don't Want To Be An Angel}

  
  


Even though Stan had been to many parties in the past couple of weeks, he'd never get used to the increase of people that came each time.

He could see more of his classmates, which made him uncomfortable, people were fine, but when you put them all in the same room, and you couldn't breathe, not so fine. It wasn't natural seeing classmates outside of the school.

"Stan, Bev, you're alive" A familiar voice said, and Stan sighed in relief when he saw Mike sweeping past the big crowds to rescue them, and to Stan's surprise Bill was trailing behind him, trying not to spill his drink. 

Stan couldn't help but smile at the fact that Bill was growing more comfortable with the Losers, he hugged Mike tightly "Where's Richie?" He asked

"He's busy with Eddie" Mike said, gesturing to the other side of the room where Richie was dancing terribly, singing loudly, the wrong lyrics as well. Eddie held his head in his hands. "You want a drink?"

 _"_ Got to have summat to get me through this night" Stan said as yet another pissed twat knocked into him. Mike smiled and passed him something that smelt like pain and regret.

"That's what I'm here for" Bev said, wrapping her arm around Stan and resting her head on his shoulder.

 _"_ What are you two supposed to be?" Mike asked, stepping back a little to inspect their costumes in another light, because yes, he hated them that much that he made this a fancy-dress party.

 _"_ I'm Romeo, he's Juliet...we flipped a coin" Bev said, gesturing to her Knight armour dress, which she made herself and I'll tell you, it required a lot more effort than Stan's angel wings and white shirt. Ben made the wings.

 _"_ The purpose being to make fun of Bill's shit film taste" Stan added, and Bill groaned as Mike laughed at him.

"You're n-never letting t-that go, are y-you?" He complained.

 _"_ Two hours, two fucking hours of my life I'm not getting back" Stan said, making his way through the room before Bill could defend his film preferences. Bev managed to convince Bill to dance with her, which wasn't the only miracle of that evening, the second was that she didn't break any bones.

Mike was good enough company to dance with, until Stan was left on his own again, as Rue started talking to him, getting all giggly amd excited inviting him upstairs. Which at the time, Stan was confused at which point in time the dynamic between them had changed, but then he remembered the love letter and Mike constantly hanging out and talking with her, Stan was a little oblivious. Mike probably told him, Stan really needed to start paying attention now.

 _What was so exciting about upstairs?_ He thought _Oh, OH. That's what. Yuck._

Sadly, Stan missed Richie's indoor fireworks using a microwave because of a fairly tall boy with dark eyes and hair waving at him to try and get his attention.

"Hey" Stan said, and he sat down on the settee, "Sorry, I think it's just the drinks, but do I know you?" He laughed,

"It's Jordan" He said, passing Stan a can, "Remember, the one who you dropped your lunch at the beginning of the year and I hate to wear clothes from lost property for school picture day" 

"Oh yeah, you're one of the many victims" Stan said and he laughed "Did you finish planning revenge?"

"What? No" He said laughing, and Stan frowned, confused "I was never really upset with you, yeah maybe at first but I got a good laugh out of it, makes family events a little more interesting"

"Oh...so why were you always glaring at me?" Stan asked and he sighed, his face falling in the same death glance he always gave Stan.

"Resting bitch face" He said "It's the sleep deprivation, I've featured in many people's nightmare's" 

"Makes sense...wait why were you always staring at me then?" Stan asked and Jordan fell silent, after a couple of minutes of silence, Stan decided to change the subject. _"_ So I'm guessing you have no friends, otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me" 

"No, I'm actually here...with you because of my friends..." He said awkwardly and Stan just gave him a confused look, to pissed to care. "Nice costume, you look amazing"

"I feel shit though" Stan complained, "I haven't even drank that much though, maybe that's the problem" He stared at the can, thinking for a moment before finishing it off at once. _"_ What are you supposed to be?" The fading purple light casted over him.

"I'm John Wick" He said, gesturing to his white shirt that had 'I'm John Wick' scrawled over it in a barely working sharpie.

 _"_ You put more effort in it than I was expecting, to be fair" Stan said, and he smirked, as if that was an achievement. Stan looked around me for a moment, realizing that he was the only one having a shit time, which was a first really.

Suddenly the seat on the other side of Stan was taken again and he was suprised to see Ben "Hey" Stan said and he gave him a small smile, drinking his drink.

"Hey can I talk to you...in private?" He asked giving Jordan a dark look who sighed and left.

"What?" Stan asked and Ben gave him an apologetic look.

"I need you help with something "He said and Stan raised his eyebrow, usually Stan was the one causing the problems not solving them. "It's Bill...he's pulling a tantrum upstairs, I'm not sure what of but it's probably nothing...well not to him cause he's had quite a few, won't listen to me and I don't want to be spending all my evening dealing with him...he's more pissed than usual. You two seem the closest" Stan nodded

 _"_ Fine, I'll go" Stan said, sitting up from the stained settee and ran up the stairs, trying not to trip on the way.

Finding which room Bill was in was like playing a very horrifying game of Russian roulette.

After two more girls sobbing, some wankers sniffing something and the beginning of a sexual act, he opened the fourth door to find Bill stropping in a small child's bedroom sweeping an entire Sylvanian family across a shelf in a fit of rage.

 _"_ What's wrong with you?Why are you so Mardy?" Stan asked and Bill gave him a dark glare.Then he bent down, picked up a dollhouse and held it aloft.

It wasn't just a dollhouse. Stan recognized it instantly from his and Richie's excessive research for 3D Cluedo. They had dismissed this particular brand because it was too expensive. "Bill,no! Not the Barbie Dreamhouse, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, what's wrong with you?" He hiccupped, stumbling back a bit. Not stuttering now that he was pissed out of his mind. _That's weird._

 _"_ Many things but even I'm not so low to destroy a little girl's toy" Stan said

"How do you know it's a girl?It could be a boy's Barbie Dreamhouse" He suggested and Stan rolled his eyes.

"A boy who likes wearing dresses?" He asked pointing at the clothes he had thrown across the floor.

"Boy's can wear dresses" He said. Stan sighed, _that was on me,_ he thought, Stan looked around and pointed at the sign that said 'Rosie's room'

"Boy's can be called Rosie" He said and Stan sighed, and stepped forward but as soon as he did, Bill lifted the dollhouse up again.

"Just put the house down and calm down" Stan said"You're ruining my evening"

"No, you're ruining my evening!" He said.

"Gently lower it...the Barbie house is innocent in all of this" Stan said as calmly as he could.

Bill placed the dollhouse down and looked down at the floor, pouting.

"Bill, come on" Stan said walking towards him and wrapping his arm around him, causing Bill to flinch instantly as he did so. "Let's get you home"

"No!" He said and for a moment it seemed like he was going to smash something. "I don't want to ruin everything, like I always do...go back to Jordan I'll be fine" He looked like he was about to cry.

"Bill, what's this about...I'm not replacing you or shit, we're still friends" Stan said and Bill looked down at his feet, uncomfortable.

"No, its not like that, Jordan asked me earlier if he could try and ask you out and if that was 'ok with me' which is stupid as you are you are own person" He rambled and Stan winced. "And it's not like we're..."

"Oh...I guess dropping food on people is a move Richie should try with Eddie" Stan said but Bill didn't laugh..

"So what do you think? Will you say yes?" He asked an unreadble expression on his face.

Stan shook his head "He seems nice and all, but...I sort of like someone else" He said, Bill looked up to him, tilting his head, that look, that look right there, caught Stan off guard. Stan bit his tongue, oh the boy was the devil...but that was ok, God knew Stan didn't want to be an angel.

Bill let Stan wrap his arm around his shoulder to help him down the stairs. They went into the kitchen and Stan gave him a drink of water. "Your stutter's completely gone" Stan said.

"I'm pissed out of my mind...no anxiety" He explained, drinking the water.

"Hey, there you are I thought you guys had died" Bev said, coming in the kitchen with Ben. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing" Stan muttered. "I just think I need to get seriously fucked up"

"That's my cue to head out, some of us have got work experience in the morning" Bev said, she lowered her voice and leaned to whisper to Stan. groaned, "Just don't let Bill get too fucked, his mum will kill him, I'm going to steal someone's designated driver"

"Fine" Stan muttered, reluctantly, waiting for her to leave. "Bev told me to babysit you...so do you want to get completely and utterly fucked?"

"Is that even a question?" He grinned.

It gets difficult to remember, after the first, each time you get high. Because each time it's everything. It was the only moments in Stan's life when he was himself. Playing around with death with a broken rule book.

The idea of forgetting, numbing the pain for a moment.... pushing away all the thoughts and pains that drowned him. Letting himself just breath. Alone, safe and comfortable in his thoughts. Feel something.

"Woahhhh" Bill said, falling on his back beside Stan, meeting my gaze to the darkness of the ceiling, which had been contaminated with every colour that wasn't what it was originally.

"I feel like I'm dying" Stan laughed, his eyes widened slightly at what he said, as if it hadn't registered with his head first.

"Oh my Strokes...what if we are?" He gasped, still laughing a little. "Or maybe we already are dead, and we were in hell...that's why our lives are so miserable"

"Probably, but that shit isn't real" Stan said, his tone too cheery for the words that he let escape into the room.

"What are you like Richie? Do you think we were put here by aliens?" He asked, his hands reaching slightly, towards what, Stan didn't know, maybe it wasn't just him who saw stars.

"Obviously" Stan said, "I had a dream about Richie last night"

He shook the side of Stan's arm "We've all had that dream about Richie" He confessed "But you know he's obsessed with "

Stan hoped he remembered that when he was sober. Stan nudged him "I didn't mean that kind of dream...I swear down everyone thinks you have sexual dreams when you dream about them...no he was on Bake off with Eddie"

"Nah, you're full of shit" He said, and Stan laughed.

"No I'm not, you're just being a bum-"

"Hey, I'm not! You're being a bum" He shouted loudly.

Stan didn't remember much after that, just highlights that no one could ever forget. He won a mattress surfing competition, Richie threw up on Mike's trampoline after he tried to do a backflip, Ben set a small fire in the kitchen and Eddie ended up knocking Conner out with a fire extinguisher.

Some time after a shaving cream fight, and a drug refuel, Stan remembered having a random urge, to ditch the safety of the party. "Why?" Bill laughed.

"I just have a random urge to go on adventure...I think I'm having a mid-life crisis" Stan said, dragging him by his arm.

"Sounds fun" He said, as they ran into the danger of the night time.

**A:N : We stan jealous Bill, plus if you get the chapter title reference you are on a God tier level of banging music...we'll be bestfriends. Next chapter coming soon. Promise.**


	18. {Lose Yourself In Your Mind}

  
Stan thought he deserved his own reality tv show.

Not because he was interesting, or inheritantly stupid, only because he needed witnesses to explain what the fuck was going on in his life and then troll him on twitter to tell him when he was fucking up his life.

Because at the time, this didn't seem like a bad idea. But then again, nothing ever did initally.

"I can't believe you stole a bike" Stan laughed as they climbed off the said stolen bike and ran towards the fence. He let Bill climb up the fence first, as that was always Stan's plan, see how others do it, so he won't fail miserably.

"I was being reckless" He reasoned, as Stan began to climb the fence after somehow, all of manged to land safely on the other side, Stan wasn't so lucky, getting his jacket caught on the a broken spindle of barbed wire, the fight to save the jacket causing him to throw himself off and land on the ground.

Thankfully, the power of drugs had given him sort of resistance to pain and any visible structural damage. He picked himself off of the floor, brushing the dirt off of his clothes, which seemed to be full of glitter.

"Could you at least tell me where we're going?"Stan asked, and Bill smirked.

"You'll see, you just have to be patient" Bill laughed and Stan pouted.

"You ask for too much, I've already cut myself on that fence, haven't I been through enough?" Stan asked, pointing to his cheek, at least he think he did...he couldn't exactly feel all of him and this point in time.

"Awww poor baby do you want me to kiss it better?" Bill teased, giggling.

"Yes" Stan said without hesistating, biting his tongue. He may be fucked out of his might but not so much that he would forget what happened last time he kissed Bill.

Bill didn't even seem to register what Stan said, just leaning forward and pecking his cheek, leaving a faint trace of bittersweet fire on his skin, molten electric. Stan didn't even notice that it was the wrong cheek.

"Better?" Bill teased, Stan rolled his eyes as Bill turned around to continue walking, he ran after him jumping on his back.

Stan managed to go another three minutes before asking: "Bill, why can't you just tell me where we're going?" Stan complained picking a leaf off a tree adding it to the pile of leaves he was balancing on Bill's head.

"Because it isn't that great and I want to establish myself as mysterious and quirky" Bill said and Stan laughed.

"We get it Bill you're not like other girls" Stan said, and Bill tried to tickle him even though he was on his back, needless to say he failed miserably.

Stan stsrted picking some flowers of the trees, to weave them together, by the time he was done Bill put him down. "You seriously made a flower crown...Lana Del Rey?"

Stan laughed, "I wish, no, I only figured out how to make them like last year, I'm making up for a disappointing childhood" He said and Bill smirked, Stan placed it on his head. "There you go, now you've completely your edgy Tumblr look"

"Fuck you" Bill laughed. His amazing adventure was actually at the park, Stan was sure he would've probably made a cynical or sarcastic comment about his choice in adventure...because well, he knew him self.

But he didn't, because he was too busy being enchanted and completely focused on Bill's bewilderment and wonder, his happiness as he jumped the fence to the playground, that even his intrusive thoughts couldn't produce anything negative.

Bill instantly went for the wmpty swings, standing on the seat and tilting his body back and fourth to make small movements. "You do realize you're suppose sit on them?" Stan laughed, sitting down on the swing next to Bill, who stuck his tongue out at him.

"It's more fun this way" He said, moving with more momentum, making the swing fall higher. Stan smiked at him. "Me and Georgie used to go on these all the time"

For the first time, Bill didn't look utterly devestated at the mention of his younger brother, instead he smiled fondly at the memory, as if he was starting to love the memory of Georgie as well as grieving the future he never could have. "You can go higher than that Stan you know? It's not going to kill you"

"I'm pretty sure it will" Stan said certainly and Bill laughed. "I'm a disaster, everything I do seemes to have a high risk of uncertain death"

"I don't think death by swing is a common one" Bill teased, twisting his swing around from side to side just to increase Stan's anxiety even more.

"You've got to be known for something" Stan said, Bill paused for a moment, not even waiting for the swing to slow down before jumping off and running behind Stan.

Stan didn't even have time to wonder what the fuck he was doing because before he knew it, Bill pushed him with all of his strength...which to put things into context, wasn't that much. Stan screamed in shock, holding onto the swing's metal chain as tight as he could.

When he swung back, Bill pushed him again and this time he didn't scream as loudly, it was still an overdramatic, horror film auditon worthy scream...but still, character development.

"You're going to ruin my wings" Stan complained as best as he could with his heart threatening to escape his chest. Bill laughed.

"That's not my fault, why are you still wearing them?" Bill asked, pushing him again, Stan hung on foe dear life.

"Because...they make me look cute" Stan said "And it's ironic because I'm anything but an angel"

"I agree" Bill said, he let the swing slow down, almost to a halt "You look adorable...more importantly no one ever really gets along with angels" He took Stan by surprise when he unexpectantly pushed him again, causing Stan to scream.

"Oh I hate you" Stan laughed when Bill finally stopped trying to send Stan to his death, via swing transportation wise.

"Sure you do" Bill teased, sitting back down on the swing next to him again. He pushed his legs back on fourth quickly, overtaking Stan's falling height within a moment.

Through the haze of the toxins in his bloodstream, Stan's competitive side was triggered and he decided to swing himself higher, to try and beat Bill. "I bet I could go higher than you" He said and Bill raised his eyebrow, I proud smirk playing at his lips.

"Dream on bird boy" He laughed puahing himself faster, causing Stan to do the same.

Well technically, Stan didn't win that one as for some reason his fucked self decided to mix up communication between his head and his body, resulting in him accidently throwing himself off the swing when it was at it's peak, his crash wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Oh wait, drugs.

The next moments seemed to fold and collapse itself into an electric rush, everything was a blur, but the only explanation Stan could come up with in the morning was that they must've wondered around for a while, the memory of climbing and accidently going backawards down a slide must have been from that night..

That reckless streak must've continued as some rich blokes got their fence jumped by two high idiots.  
"No I promise you, the only reason you won that race, was because you got to pretend to drown" Bill said as they walked closer to the pool.

"I won fair and square, you're just a shit swimmer" Stan said, laughing, Bill rolled his eyes, pushing Stan into the water. He screamed in surprised, struggling a little to get to the surface.

"Who's the shit swimmer now?" Bill asked as he choked on the water, still laughing. Stan flipped him off.

"You're fucked up, I hate you" He said swimming forward, grabbing Bill's leg and pulling him in the water. Hitting the water never happened, it didn't seem possible, but Stan didn't feel anything before, only empty rush of water wash over his skin and through his eye lashes when Bill landed beside him.

Bill pushed himself to the surface, coughing a little. "Fuck, I hate you, so fucking much" He laughed, jumping at Stan, tackling him as best as he could as Stan laughed at him .

"What because I just proved you can't swim?" Stan challenged and Bill splashed him with water, Stan pushed his arms deeper and faster within the water sending a bigger wave Bill's way. As Bill was under an electric influence, he threw himself at Stan, knocking him back in the water. In some weird way to drown him, I guess.

Stan reached the surface, not wasting a moment before pushing Bill in the water, they continued to tackle one another until they were both beneath the reckless water.

Stab couldn't stop the warmth flitter through his heart, he loved this, this atmosphere of bubbling electricity. This was why, this was why Stan organized his life into moments, this was why he never let the past exist, not let the future be known to his intrusive thoughts. Because without that, the lines between dream and reality would start to blur.

That's what Bill did, he was an electric disaster that crashed into his life, tearing through everything that he had built up in his head, his heart. Everything he ever wished, felt, knew, all disappeared under the broken blue eyes of Bill Denbrough.

Moments were supposed to end, they were suppose to move onto the enxt without even looking back at the last, like a film roll.

But this moment, this moment didn't end there, Stan was not sure how long they were beneath the water, how far they were from drowning. But that wasn't what was important, because in that moment, instead going up to breathe, Bill swam further down and pressed his lips on Stan's.

Stan quickly pushed himself back, letting the water burn his eyes, paralized by shock. _It wasn't real, nothing ever was._ His mind reminded him, pushing for him to swim back to the surface and not let this disaster unfold. _If it isn't real...than let me drown under the lips of Bill Denbrough in a dream, instead of waking up in a reality without him._

Those new thoughts weaved through him, allowing him drifting closer to Bill and kiss him once more. _If moments could breathe._

Whatever drugs Stan had taken that night faded and ceased to exist under Bill's lips. Each breath was shared under a euphoric grasp, their surroundings dusted grey and tainted with ash, from the fire that burned through their connected touch.

They didn't drown that night; they broke the surface under a shared breath, unable to let themselves drift apart with the waves of the water.

Stan's arms would be around Bill's neck and Bill's hands cupped his cheeks as the stars fading around them, the universe slowing re creating itself under the shadow of Bill's touch.

A molten glare crawled beneath Stan's skin, spiralling through every fibre of his body under an electric trance, slipping past his lips in soft gasps or shivers.

"You're still a shit swimmer" Stan said when they fell apart from each other, and Bill smiled.

"Then no more swimming" Bill said, leaning forward to kiss him again, Stan instantly fell into him, letting himself become a part of him as everything he'd ever known, ever believed in was taken apart and built back up again, with this time Bill being the only thing that contaminated his mind.

"I wish I could do that when I was sober" Stan said when they pulled apart once more, resting his hands on Bill's shoulders, brushing a strand of his hair back behind his hair.

"Same" He muttered, his eyes unable to bring themselves away from Stan's. "But it the mean time..."


	19. {Break Before Made}

  
Dear anyone who finds this, do not blame the drugs.

Stan was perfectly able of fucking his life up and making matters worse, without being under the influence, artifical chemical reactions within him only pushed the urges that delved beneath his mind. Drawn to danger, apathetic to common sense. By the time he was sober, he was broken, even before he was made whole again, in a sense, everything was broken before it was made.

Don't blame the drugs, blame the reasons behind them, the means that they trigger. They didn't create, they amplified what was already there.

The high had escaped him now, there was no other drug inside him. He called bullshit however, he still felt something, crawling through his bloodstream, flooding him with an infinite formula, one that drowned out the world around him and consequently, his common sense. It was the traces of electricity that clasped and clawed on his lips, the depths of Bill that would never leave him, another pool of drugs, and this time, he was addicted.

The feeling would fade and grow, ebb and flow, like the last ash from the dying campfire, threading into the open air, with the sameartistic swirl as smoke. Smoke embroidered with spirit and life, escaping and returning to his lungs. And every time it did, he just lean in and press his lips against Bill's once more, another shot, another gasp of the drug, it couldn't hurt him now, only destroy everything in the future.

The two boys were sprawled on Stan's bed, laying opposite each other and lost in one another. They had changed out of there drenched clothes, them both covered in random layers of Stan's clothing to keep warm, I'll tell you, not to ruin the sentiment, but for later reference, it Stan saw what he was wearing without that lust haze, he would've probably panicked to the point he'd spontaeously combust.

"I don't get it" Bill said, exhaling dramatically, the tinted vapour brushing over Stan's face.

"What?" Stan hummed, in deep, in wonder of Bill. Bev was right, was this what everything was like before?

"Everything" Bill said and Stan smirked, too tired to laugh. "Nothing feels real, it's like I'm watching everything else unfold in my life, not really supposed to be participating. If that makes sense?"

_It isn't real._

"Oh, I didn't realize you weren't like other girls Bill" Stan teased and Bill pushed him weakly, probably running off the same, minimal energy Stan was.

_Nothing ever was_

"I know everyone feels like that, at the point when they don't feel anything, but I don't know" He muttered, lost in his thoughts. "It's like it's all just..." He trailed off.

"Out of your control" Stan whispered and he nodded, he shuffled closer, brushing his fingers through Bill's hair, cuddling close to him, his ither hand his pocket, he was still a little cold. Stan wasn't the affectionate type, but with Bill, he was. "I get it, I don't really think I'm much, have much going on of sorts, like I don't really have a personality, I just get stressed and it's possible I may accidently kill Richie"

"Well as long as you don't kill me...hey, that would be a weird Kill Bill spin off, wouldn't it" Bill said, smiling to himself, "But, with everything and if it means anything, I think you're the only person in this world who's honest"

"I lie all the time" Stan laughed softly and Bill nudged him. _I'm lying to you right now, I'm always lying to you, I'm lying to my parents, to Richie. There's someone I'm hiding from you Bill, and I get remember who._

"That's not what I meant, you're honest with yourself" He said "You know you have no idea what's going on, you know who you need, you know when you're wrong....you don't blame yourself for things that are out of your control. And in a world, when everyone's lying to me, my parents, my friends...well lack of, myself..." He hesistated. "You're the only one who feels real"

_It isn't real, nothing ever was, nothing ever is, nothing will happen, nothing- he's real. He always has been._

Stan leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bill's again. "You're the only one who makes sense, who's real in this fucked world" Stan whispered, tracing the faint freckles on Bill's nose.

Bill smirked. "Well, by comparison, that isn't much, you have Richie in your life, Bev, Eddie, Mike, Ben...I mean they all seem to good to be true, too much energy"

Stan rolled his eyes, "You have Rue..." Stan muttered, thinking to himself, but he couldn't "And no fair, I accepted your compliment, just accept kindness"

Bill squirmed, "Nooo, I can't do that, my mind reacts to positive shit terribly" He said, and Stan smirked. "They feel like terrivle cringy quotes from Tumblr"

"Ah ok, that's calm" He said, unable to hide his smile. "Be unapologetically yourself

"Fuck you" Bill said, pushing Stan's arm, not helping with the fit of giggles that took over Stan's body.

"She said she could so she did" Stan said and Bill groaned, nudging him again. "Life is not waiting for the storm to pass but learning how to dance in the rain"

"Ahhh" Bill screamed in the Bill, before burying his head beneath it. "How long have you spent at the Card Factory?"

"Enjoy the little things in life" Stan said, and Bill threw his pillow at him. "Stars can't shine without darkness" Stan's weak body rolled of the Bed and Bill pushed him weakly, Stan pulled Bill to the floor with him, they both couldn't stop laughing.

And when the last breaths of laughter brushed away and they were left in silence once more, Stan turned to face Bill, brushing his hair out of his eyes, kissing him softly. Bill smile softly when he pulled away, his eyes still closed. Stan smirked. "Life, laugh, love" He said and Bill's smile fell.

Bill reached for the pillow from Stan's bed and hit him with it again. "Yoy can't assault me with my own pillow" Sta said pretending to be highly offended.

"Well I just did and guess what?" Bill whispered in his ear.

"What?"Stan whispered back. Suddenly he was hit with another pillow.

"Just did it again" He said falling on her back with laughter. As yes, Bill was the kind of person to find himself incredibly amusing, whilst intoxicated, someone had to. 

Stan picked up a pillow and through it at Bill, causing Bill to jump up and run away from him down the corridor.

"You will never catch me bird boy!" Bill said as he sprinted away. Stan ran after him down the stairs and into the living room throwing another pillow at him and picked Bill up over his shoulder when Stan finally caught up with him. It was at this point in time that Stan realized that his family could sleep through the fucking end of the world, so it didn't matter.

"Put me down bird boy" Bill tried to say seriously but failed as he was laughing to much.

"Ok" Stan said before dropping him causing him to scream, Stan caught him before he hit the floor and put him on the settee before he was murdered.

"You are s-s-so dead" Bill said between laughter.

"Really" Stan said crossing his arms "what are you going to do about it?" He with a smug grin

"This" Bill said before he began tickling Stan.

Stan's greatest and most shameful secret. Not many people knew that he was still ticklish and it was a weakness that scared him. Dying via uncontrolable laughter with an juxtaposed ending that Stan was hoping to never endure.

"Stop" Stan said as he fell onto the floor laughing and swaying around like a fish out of water, as he was sure he was going to die this way.

"You're such a child" Bill said finally letting Stan free.

"Oh really just because I'm ticklish?" Stan asked and Bill nodded, laughing at him. Stan rolled his eyes and caused Bill to laugh more as he grabbed his ribcage.

"Oh no, revenge!" He said through gasps of laughter as he recreated Stan's prior fish dance.

Stan rolled away from him and they both layed on the floor still laughing, giggling with a few snorts, which they'll deny later but we know happened.

"See the motivational quotes worked..." Stan said and Bill rolled his eyes, groaning at the memory he clearly tried to repress. "Now you're having a great time, at 4am, without caring about what people think. Instagram influencers would be proud"

Bill nudged Stan. "Yes, thank you, you were my motivational mentor...my gay yoda, gayda. Thank you for helping me through my self-discovery, via montage of course" Bill said sarcastically and Stan laughed.

"I wouldn't have it any other way" Stan said. "But for all serious reasons, you know I have to ask...what would the music be in your montage?"

Bill thought for a moment, his gaze continuing to provoke's it's natural habit, it need to tantalize Stan by drifting away from him. "Well it would have to be some of that 2010 cheesy, motivational songs, and I do fancy myself a little Ellie Goulding now that I think about it...or Katy Perry"

"Katy Perry tragically holds the soundtrack to my life" Stan said. "One of the few artists that dominate my CD collection" Bill stiffened, sitting up and staring at Stan, his gaze uncertain. "What?"

"Nothing..." Bill trailed off, hesistant "Just, I'm not sure I can associate myself with someone who's music taste has updated since 2005" He laughed, Stan rolled his eyes and sat up to push Bill back to the floor. The both rolled over for less than a second, Bill smirked, brushing Stan curls out of his face and kissing him softly, the smirk never leaving his lips.

Stan couldn't help but smile, holding onto Bill's shirt, a little disappointed when Bill rolled off him and lay back on the floor. "What about you?" He asked and Stan hummed in response, still a little dazed. "What would your monatge music be?"

"Definitly something outplayed and overused" Stan said, causing Bill to snort again...but shush, that didn't happen, remember. "Like something from Rocky Four...Eye Of The Tiger, because I'm unoriginal as fuck...tha knows"

"Not true" Bill teased and Stan raised his eyebrow. "Be yourself, because no one else can"

"I have just been stabbed in the back with my own knife" Stan said, deadpan and Bill laughed. "I have never been more offended than I have now, you can't use my own torture against me"

"Haha, I can" Bill said "Hey, maybe that's your thing, you can choose the cheesiest and cringiest song for your montage"

"Or I could go the other way and chose something that contradicts the tone" Stan said "Inappropriate reactions, that sounds like me, everytime, really ask your mum. But yeah maybe I could have like billie Eilish or Sam Smith, not being very motivational, to really highlight my failing nature"

Bill smirked, turning to face Stan. "I don't think your reactions are inappropriate" Stan tried not to scoff too loudly.

"My doctor would say otherwise" Stan said and Bill shook his head.

"I've known you long enough, what you said to my mum..." Bill began and Stan cut him off, embarassed.

"Let's not talk about that" Stan tried, Bill laughed, but continued anyway.

"Your the only who never overwhealmed me with pity, treated me like I was some sort of fragile, emotional doll. This destructive response we've created in society, what is the norm to treat people, doesn't always work and because you don't really follow those rules-" Bill expained.

"Oh, it's not like I have choice, I can't I have some weird impairement, apparently, I wasn't really listening" Stan interjected and Bill smiled.

"You can't hurt me the way everyone else does, by pretending the horrible things never happened, like G-Gerogie never existed, or pitying me to an insane extent" Bill said and Stan tried not to show his guilt.

"Everyone ends up hurting each other eventually" Stan whispered "It's why we can't have nice things"

Bill gave him a sad smile, "I'll tell you Stan, I'm not a nice thing, but you can have me, if you'll let me have you"

Stan grinned "I'm not a nice thing and Bill Denbrough you have every part of me" He said, ignoring the crushing guilt and disasterous current that was thundering through his body. _You can't have both, you can't have both, you can't have both, this isn't real, nothing ever is, if looks could kill, if kisses could kill, you can't have both, it isn't real. Just breathe. Everything happens fro a reason. You can't have both, breathe. We are who we are for a reason. Just breathe, it isn't real. You can't have both, you can't have both and for it to be real, unless-_

_Unless he could, unless he could have both, unless...unless, unless Bill was crashmat._

_Oh fuck, oh fuckedy fuck._

**_A:N: I'm soooo sorry for this late update, I didn't realize it had been this long. Preparing list of excuses...loading...basically I had to do all of my coursework, write four essay's and do my UCAS as well as apply go to Uni open days, it all just piled up this week so we've been stressed. Hope you enjoyed this chapter xx_ **


	20. {El Mañana}

  
It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression 'As brilliant as a hangover whilst your friends laugh at you'

I'm writing this sitting in the kitchen sink, and imagining this scenerio grows dimmer, so no, I won't describe how Stan was feeling exactly in this situation, and if I can't write it, then fuck it, it can't be done. Just inagine the lowest point in your life, but then forget it, as it has no relevance to this whatsoever I just fancied a bit of pain, for my own entertainment purposes.

"Oh you had me for a second there Stan" Bev laughed, between gasps of air, Stan judt stared at them as both she and Mike entertained themselves at Stan's expense. "I thought you were being serious"

"And Richie said you don't have a sense of humour" Mike said, wiping away a tear, because why not? Why not make this a theatrical piece, cue a musical number about Stan's insecurites as well while their at it?

When Mike and Bev had, stopped percieving Stan as a stand-up comedian, and noted his deadpan expression it packed away their laughter in a heart beat.

"Bill?" Bev asked "Bill as in our Bill, Bill Denbrough?" Stan rolled his eyes. There was no way she could've misheard him, and still be this amused. "You think Bill Denbrough is Crashmat?"

Stan raised his eyebrow. "I mean, the same Bill who spent the past year hiding from everyone? Who's only to been to like one of my parties, the one when he freaked out when you kissed him?"

"The very same" Stan muttered, Mike's intention of revelation provoking more of a bored town, as he'd already been through the same internal crisis when he fell sober, when Bill went and Stan was allowed to have a existential crisis in peace.

This crisis seemed to only really be discribed by Stan as being like a poster that hung in their nursery classroom. It was an ugly shade of yellow, featuring a labeled grid of cartoon faces displaying various emotions. The ballooning letters rised from the nearly-forgotten memory and danced past him like a nightmarishly cheerful parade, cartoon faces proclaiming their emotions in big capital letters: CONFUSED! DOUBTFUL! SURPRISED!

"Ok, ok, how did you come to the conclusion?" Bev asked "Was it before or after...the influece of drugs?"

Stan rolled his eyes yet again, confinced that this conversation, and this conversation alone held the record. "Think about it, blue eyes, drugs, huge English nerd, whenever I see him at school he's always annotating a play or something. Richie won him a teddy and he has similair music taste"

Bev still wasn't convinced apparently "Bill's hid himself for the past year, do you think we would've noticed if he was at Mike's parties? He only came with us twice, the first time was the first time you went and then the second when you scared him off, hasn't been since" Bev explained. "I think I would've noticed if he was an addict, Stan I was the only one by his side for a while, he's only ever messed around with that shit with you. Also everyone has similair music taste, don't listen to fanfiction that tells you otherwise"

"What the fuck is a fanfiction?" Stan asked, knittigng his eyebrows together in confusion.

"You don't want to know" She said gravely. "Plus, some how...there's probably loads about you..."

"How would that even be possible?" Stan asked, brushing off the idea. "Look, I don't care about the logistics...shock horror. But for once, I think I feel something here, like it just makes sense"

"It makes sense, or you just want it to be true?" Mike asked and Stan's gaze darkened.

"The fuck's that suppose to mean?" He asked and Mike rolled his eyes at his defense.

"You're just a little bias" Mike said.

In what sense? He just wanted it to be Bill to make his life easier? So he wouldn't have to admit to himself he's become an absolute knob, almost actively dating two people at the same time? He didn't care what Bill's books said...this shit wasn't cute or romantic, it was just another stress to top his anxiety. _Bill. Fuck._

He should probably call him, but Bill hadn't call him either. Stan didn't want to even think of the consequences of his John Green book moment with Bill, without solving this shit first, he did this, this was his fault. He led Bill on, he knew, he knew what he was doing, but Stan couldn't comprehend that any of this was actually real. _It isn't real._ That's why he struggled to remember that he _couldn't have both._

"Look, why can't you lot just accept this? Like you accept the others and help to solve it?" Stan asked and Bev sighed.

"Because Bill, Bill is a little lost Stan" Bev explained. "We can't do anything that's going to hurt him" _Bit late, but why would we give her spoilers, she'll have to wait until she's figured out how to read Stan's mind_ to _find out just what Stan did._

"Look I don't want to hurt Bill" Stan said, attempting a soothing voice, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it sounded more like an apathetic serial killer than calming. "Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do...but I know him, a lot better than yoh think, and I know he doesn't want to pitied, who doesn't want to be set aside to be protected. I want to treat him like we treat everyone else"

Bev sighed heavily, looking over to Mike who just shrugged, to be fair he still seemed a little baffled by the whole situation, as though his mind was still repeating the words _'Bill really?'_ in the form of some sort of shitty remix. "It's not like you need my permission or anything, but fine, we'll see if it is Bill. But I'm just worried Stan, whatever the outcome, it could serious affect your relationship with Bill"

"I know...but I've sort of put myself in a situation where I'm going to fuck up my relationship either way" Stan said, sighing heavily, placing his hands on his hips. "Don't lose your shit...I mean it, but what I'm trying to say is, I think I'm attempting to do the right thing"

Mike's jaw dropped and Bev just stared at him. "Well...erm, I guess, we could be on board on that" She said "And if you'll excuse me, I need to leave the room to lose my shit privately"

_Character development._

**𓆲**

The Denbrough house was strangely quiet when Stan arrived. Which to be honest, said nothing as everytime Stan went, he was the loudest presence there, Stan of all people.

At first he rang the door bell, then he gave it a little knock. _Bill must be home._ Stan thought. _He never goes out...unless he has some sort of secret hobby that I'm unaware of._

He sighed, deciding to channel his inner Spiderman by climbing the side gate and making his way to the back of the house.

He looked up to Bill's bedroom window, already feeling like, level ten on the creepy scale...You season 4. He looked around him, _how to do this in a normal way...romance films always make this shit cute rather than a start of a journey to a restraining order._

He picked up a stone from the floor, looking back up to window. Now, I'll tell you, Stan was never the...athletic type, which I don't think would be much of a surprise to hear, but the one time, the one time his aim and strength decided to exceed it's natural meidocre nature...was when he threw a stone at Bill's window. Stan winced at the loud crash as he accidently smashed Bill's window.

"Sorry..." He said, when Bill came running to the window, staring at Stan as if he had turned up in Bill's back garden in a mankini doing the mackerina. "I was trying to be romantic"

"I t-t-think you've j-just created o-over a grand's wuh-worth of property d-damage" Bill said, still a little shocked. "But s-still a b-better love story than t-twilight" He added with a smirk, Stan couldn't help but grin. 

"Can I-I ask wuh-what you're doing h-here? Other t-than to wake the e-entire of D-Derry up?" Bill asked and Stan tried not to laugh.

"Maybe I just couldn't stay away from you" Stan said and Bill looked like he wanted throw himself out of the window. 

"You s-s-sound like a v-vampire in a-a toxic f-fanfiction" Bill noted, a _gain what is this shit that people keep referencing today?_ Bill hesitated, drumming his fingers against the window frame. "Fine g-get up here b-before next d-door drown you in t-their p-pond"

Stan climbed the side of the house as well as he could in the middle of the night, whilst still slightly hungover, _for fucks sake, Troy Bolton made it look so easy!_ Bill helped pull Stan through the window, and as soon as he on his feet again, he hooked his fingers through Stan's belt loops, pulling him closer and finally pulling their souls together through the touch of their lips. 

Stan cupped Bill's cheeks, intending to pull him away so he wouldn't get distracted, _don't hurt him,_ Bev's voice scolded him already, instead, Stan found his arms around Bill and his thoughts lost within him. 

He let himself melt away into the darkness that was Bill Denbrough, Bill kissed him the same way the night kissed the day, dragging pure darkness across him, the only way he could ever feel stars, his lips crafting the colour of a constellation falling into place on his neck. Stan closed his eyes, exhaling softly, capturing Bill's cheeks once more, deferring his attention, taking a left away from erotic lane. "I need to talk to you" Stan said and Bill hummed in response, placing his touch on Stan's cheek again, Stan tried to compose himself, trying not to let himself completely crumple under the infatuation of the combination of Bill and the music still playing through his phone, Arctic Monkeys or something. He held his shoulders firmly. 

"I'm serious...I don't know what it is you want Bill, but..." Stan hesitated _don't hurt him_ "You don't know what you're get yourself into, whatever _this_ is, I don't think I can do this to you"

"You've been talking to B-Bev" Bill said, not really bothered, which was a little strange Stan thought. "You're not g-going to hurt me Stan, because, to be fair, there's nothing really happening, I'm already broken, beyond repair. For once, I'm finding myself completely infatuated with something other than pain"

"You like me" Stan noted and Bill rolled his eyes.

"No, I just like k-kissing you for the s-sake of it" Bill said sarcastically, "Don't worry, y-you should know, no one knows wuh-w-what their getting into, that w-what decides how l-long it lasts...because inevitably..."

"Nothing lasts forever" Stan breathed, a small smile slipping through "I don't know how I feel, but I know, that I'm completely infatuated with you" Bill grinned kissing him again.

"But I have to ask..." Stan began, between kisses and Bill pouted, making Stan laugh. "The drugs...do you do them before, or did I just start to destroy your life"

Bill shook his head, cupping Stan's cheeks and resting his head against his, "You're not g-going to hurt me Stan, don't worry, I'm not accepting any of t-this 'I'm no good f-for you' bull, b-because you are, m-may not be for anyone else, but you s-seem to be only g-good for me, just listen to me, you make me feel safe and calm, like no one else does" He said and Stan couldn't fight the heat reaching his cheeks. "And so what if we f-fucked around with drugs together for the first time, I don't have an a-addiction or anything, we d-did it like t-twice. Y-You're not going to h-hurt me"

"Ok, but what about Mike's party?" Stan tried, only confusing Bill more. 

"I j-just freaked out b-because it h-hurt when I t-thought you d-didn't really like me" He explained "You just wanted to wind Richie up, that's why I was upset"

Stan shook his head "You went to others right?" Stan asked, quickly "Other than the other night and that time"

Bill shook his head "No, I w-wouldn't have" He said "B-before they found G-Georgie, I spent every n-night looking for him, I d-didn't go to a s-single one, until Bev dragged me, you a-almost did scare me off p-permanently with that kiss"

Stan, to put it lightly, was in the middle of an internal meltdown "R-Richie won you a t-teddy bear at the f-fair"

Bill knitted his eyebrows together "Y-Yeah, that was awesome, but w-what has that got to d-do with anything?"

"You have two phones, I've seen you have two different phone cases" Stan tried desperately "That way, I wouldn't recognise your number"

Bill looked a little taken back "Stan what are you talking about? I don't, I always swap it when Bev's around so she w-w-won't know I d-didn't like her C-Christmas present" He explained "A-Are you ok? I'm a little c-confused"

Stan's throat felt rough and dry, he swallowed, trying to steady his breath "A-Are you sure, you n-never went to M-Mike's, p-please?" He asked and Bill's gaze deepened in his.

"I want to h-help you Stan, with whatever it i-is you're worried about" Bill said "B-But I w-was only ever f-friends with Bev before I m-met you, surely you w-would've seen me? I'm s-sorry"

Stan felt everything around them sink, _you can't have both, don't hurt him. "_ I should go" Stan said Bill's gaze fell.

"What?" He asked "D-D-Did I do something w-wrong?"

"No, it's fine" Stan lied, retreating to the other end of the room, to the window, _don't hurt him._ "It's really late and we have school tomorrow, this...this was a mistake" _CONFUSED! DOUBTFUL! SURPRISED!_

"Oh o-ok" Bill said, not even trying to hide his disappointment as he walked over to the window, _don't hurt him,_ Bill watched him climb down "W-We're still good, right Stan?" He asked and Stan forced a smile, _you can't have both._

"Yeah" Stan lied "Always"

_Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck, fuck, you've fucked up big time Stan._   
  
  
  
  
  



	21. {Call You By His Name}

_I don't want the truth anymore, because the truth isn't you._

_The truth seduced me, it took me further away from you, not far enough apparently, because I still fell back to you. The truth teases me,_ **_'_ ** **_you fell for words, not a face'_ ** _it claws me in my sleep, it makes itself so easy to avoid._ **_'You fell for a feeling, a daydream'_ ** _To let myself stay, remain in this stalemate, where the insides crawl with sin, those of a man who cuffs his sleaves with the layers of broken hearts he promised to love._

_It wasn't my intention, consequences to weave itself in such a way that my imagination directed all of it's fears at me, at once, with no warning. The disappointment, that runs down your cheeks, the surface I clasped with mine not long ago, will be unable to even feel my own. It's as though I'm out of sync with the numbness that took over my life, it drags me down deep in it's water, but runs short beneath my chin, so I can tilt my head back_ _and look up the sky, where I can watch the disaster that you call life unfold before me, without being able to reach up and stop it._

_I guess what I'm trying to say is FUCK THIS, why do I sound like a fucking English student trying to be a poet, while working a coffee shop part time?_

_what the f c_   
_u_   
_k?_

Stan tried not to scream too loudly, as he teared the page out of his notebook, ripping it into hundreds of pieces, before attacking it mercilessly with his pen, before throwing the pen across the room and resting his head in his head. "Fuck this" He muttered, leaning back in his chair.

What Stan was up to, I'm not sure he even knew, I think he was attempting some sort of solution to this very, complex issue. Stan hadn't been, the most collected individual, he'd give himself that, but, he wasn't sure what people with a considerably sustainble mental state would've done in this situation. 

"You did this" He muttered to himself as he chewed the end of his pen. "You asked for this" Well if you put it like that, he made a fair point, Stan couldn't lie that his desperation, his drive at the start of the year for an interesting tale, may have played in his actions to get himself in this situation. 

Stan knew he was about 2/3rds into this disaster, and that there was no way this conflict wouldn't present itself with a solution soon. But Stan also knew, if he let things play out, he couldn't comprehend the consquences. _He would lose both, maybe that was what he deserved. Maybe his story was a tradegy._

_Please common sense, I know you've been absent my entire life, but please give me an easy solution._

"I told you not to break his heart" Bev said, lying on her back on Stan's bed, her legs leaning on the wall. It wasn't really Bev, she was at Ben's, this was part of his imagination, a coping mechanism. Something to help him "Don't break his heart Stan" 

"I know"He muttered "Trust me, I know, I don't want to" 

"We never get what we want" Bev said, with an upside down grin. "That's why you can't have both, we both know who you want, why fuck this up?"

"Because...I don't like not knowing things" Stan said "If I never get the answer, I'll never stop thinking about it"

"You can't stop thinking about him either" Bev teased and Stan turned around in his chair, ignoring her. "You never could...he's in your thoughts, I see him there all the time. He's another mystery in himself, because you can't stop asking yourself: who is Bill Denbrough?"

"Shut up" Stan muttered, colouring the paper harshly with his sharpened pencil. "You don't know anything"

"That's what frustrating you isn't it?" She teased,"You don't know and you'll never know. Who is he and how did he end up there, in your heart, in your head...in your dreams. You dream about him, don't you Stan, you imagine how he feels beneath you, when-"

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Stan shouted, snapping his pencil and throwing it across the room. Bev was no longer there. "Oh fuck" He mumbled. "I'm fucking losing it" 

Stan opened his nearly empty notebook, yet again and spent a while trying to find a working pen, then he wrote. 

_Dear Stan, this is your_   
_ **PLAN OF ACTION** _

_**•** _ _** DO NOT  ** _ _lead Bill on, not until all this is sorted out. Avoid him if needed._

_•_ _** FIND CRASHMAT ** _ _and end this, learn the truth, all of it and then you can come to a conclusion._

_**•** _ _ **DON'T AVOID THIS** _ _and no stalemating. You have to solve this, or it will destroy you._

_Love Stan xx_

Stan found a way stick it up on his board on the wall, alongside his other very detailed organizers and timetables. "This best work Stan" He muttered to himself. 

He momentairly considered letting Richie win to make this whole situation easier, but then dropped that stupid thought almost instantly. The world wasn't fucked enough to deserve Stan's vocals. 

_Just stick to the plan._ His thoughts comforted him, instead fucking him over for once. _Yeah, just stick the plan, everything will be alright._

**𓆲**

There a few things you should know before you read this next part: Stan was not apathetic to kindness.

You may think that Stan wasn't inclined to any positive experiences in his life time, or physically unable to escape this, turbulent cynansim that delved his charisma. That's a misconception.

The sardonic atmosphere and sombre humour was only a few small threads within a mechanism in his mind, the one that packed away his crippling trust issues. 

So believe me, the events that are about to occur didn't happen because he didn't know how to react kindness, it was because he knew very well the consquences that would occur after them. _**W**_ ** _arning: The following scenes may be disruptive for viewers who are too pessimistic to be comfortable around sensitive topics such as compliments, tenderness and cheesy gestures_** _ **.**_

Stan kept himself hidden behind his hoodie when he walked into school the next day, hood up, head down, trying not to draw any attention to himself. _Just stick to the plan._

Fear coarsed through his body, as his mind already debated the outcomes of his plan, promising both failure and success...both in which would ruin him. 

That fear diluted as soon as he saw a **_'caution cleaning in process'_** sign. Stan slowed down, taking a moment to look either side of him, but the hallway was empty, as everyone was already in the homeroom. He moved the sign and used the spotless surface to slide on the floor, like he was six years old in Tesco again...or like it was last week.

Suddenly out of no where Bill appeared and instantly crashed into him, sending them both to the floor. _How had I already fucked this up?_ He thought to himself. 

"Good morning to you too" He mumbled, trying to remove the shy boy that practically pinned Stan to the ground by lying on top of him. But it turns out Stan was as strong as one of those shit plastic toys you got out of a Disney magazine as a kid, because it didn't work.

Bill laughed, rolling onto his front, resting his hand next to Stan's head to push himself up slightly, not enough to stand up. "You're the one who crashed into me...and it's not my fault that you're a short victortian paper boy" He laughed and Stan rolled his eyes.

"I'm like taller than you" Stan mumbled and Bill pretended not to hear. Bill stood up and offered his arm out and without thinking Stan let him pull him to his feet. 

"What can I do you for Bill?" Stan asked and Bill grinned, giving up his perfect opporutnity to be Richie, to pick up a plastic bag that was leaning against the wall because he had no interest in saving the sea turtles. 

"These are for you" He explained, he held a tissue wrapped bunch of different coloured roses, their surface tint weaved from an instagram filter almost, dusted in rainbow freckles.

"What for?" Stan asked, really hoping Bill wasn't going to ask him out or anything like that. Stan wasn't really an expert on this sort of thing. Well really, who was?

"Erm, well, you sssss-s-sort of, b-been a-avoiding me, and I t-t-thought..." Bill stuttered nervously, becoming incredibly flustered. " I-I s-s-said s-something to m-make you u-upset" 

It was very rare that an opportunity like this would occur for Stan, it was still incredibly fucked and you knew it. But he still did it anyway."I'm allergic" He lied, turning to walk away, trying not to slip on the floor.

Bill frowned "Are y-y-you really u-upset? I w-want to m-make it b-better" 

Stan's chest clenched and he tried to hold onto his heart. "What you said hurt Bill, it really did. How can I forgive you if you don't know what you did?" He said, ans with that, he got his pen out of his pocket, ready to sign the contract to send him to hell. 

"W-W-What am I-I suppose to d-,do with these?" Bill asked, lifting his arms up in frustration, wacking Richie in the face, who had appeared behind him suddenly.

"Oh thank mate, you shouldn't have" Richie said, taking the flowers. Stan turninee around and walked off. For his own fragile ego, we'll pretend that he didn't slip on the floor afterwards and split his jeans.

**𓆲**

Stan spent lunchtime hiding in a Geography classroom, debating whether or not he technically worship Satan after what he had done to Bill. _Stick to the plan._ Stan groaned, hitting his head against the display board of Derry's carbon emissions. _Don't differ from the plan, don't you dare, don't even think about. Ok, I'm gonna do it._

Stan took out his phone, calling Crashmat...straight to voicemail. "Hey it's me, your disaster boy..." He tried to clear his throat but his voice still sounded so nervous that it didn't really sound like him at all. "You probably already knew that because you have my contact saved...wait, unless you don't, if so don't tell me I'm emotionally unstable as it is" He rambled, biting his tongue, cursing.

"Look listen, I know...I know we don't talk like this, but things are really fucked right now and I just need to know..." He was interrupted when he saw Bill appear out of no where again, making him drop his phone out of his hand in shock, and just to make life that much better it landed in his cup of coffee.

"Oh s-shit..." Bill panicked, trying to get it out, burning his fingers in the process. "Ah fuck" he hissed, drying his hands on his shirt. "I'll pay for that...s-s-sorry"

"It's fine" Stan said and Bill shook his head. 

"I c-came h-here to apologise...for breaking y-y-your phone as well I g-guess" Bill said, taking out a container from behind his back. "E-Everyone knows t-that food solves e-e-everything, so with the help of B-Ben in f-food t-tech I made...w-wait, hold on..." He said as he opened the container, staring at it's emptieness, completely baffled.

He turned it upside down and looked beneath it, a few crumps falling in his eyes. "Ow...ok, w-which o-one of you a-ate the b-biscuits?" Bill asked turning around and facing the rest of the Losers, who were alos here apparently. 

Richie and Mike pointed at each other at the same time. "F-F-Fuck you lot, t-they weren't f-f-for you..."

It took everything Stan had to not accept Bill's apology, for something he didn't even do. Stan momentarily considered going into law.

_Just don't hurt him Stan_ Bev reminded him and he sighed heavily.

_I'm trying to but it's still hurting him._

**𓆲**

Stan spent the rest of his lunch hiding in the music practise room with Ben, who was writing Bev a song, with the help of Mike's guitar. Stan guessed it was cute, but he really didn't get straight people.

Richie had turned up at some point to hide from Mr Davis, as he had pulled the fire alarm again. He made himself comfortable on a random drum kit.

But as it was Richie, he managed to get a drumstick caught in a ceiling beam when he threw his it in the air. They couldn't leave it as, well, as it wasn't Richie's, so it had value. 

Stan had become, a quite efficent climber over the years, due to the amount of times he had been locked out of hid house. So Mike and Ben gabe him a lift so he could reach the pipes that rested on the side of the walls to pull himself to the ceiling beams.

He continued to shuffle across the ceiling beams, he got as close to the drumstick as he could, he shuffled a little closer, reaching for it, straining his fingers as he grabbed it.

His victory was short-lived, by the sudden sound of an opening guitar riff from Bill who had appeared out of no where again, his speakers were accidently on full volume creating sound that could cause earthquakes.  
  
  


Stan screamed in shock, falling of the beam, he tried to grab onto another one but ended up banging his head on it instead, which did break the fall a little, but it still didn't help the pain of crashing straight onto the drumkit. The sound of that inspired Ben's song apparently.

"Ow..." Stan mumbled, everything ached and burned. Mike helped him up, pulling Stan's arm over his shoulder

"Shit that ankle looks bad" Mike said as they hopped over to the table. "Might be twisted"

"It's all good..." Stan mumbled, resting his head in his hands. 

"I'm so s-s-sorry, I didn't m-m-mean to..." Bill panicked, walking over to Stan, who stood up quickly, holding onto Ben.

"No, stay away, I'm not even joking" Stan said placing his hands in front of him to stop Bill from getting any closer. "I get it, you're sorry, but clearly that's problematic, because your apologises may end up killing me"

"Ok, maybe, b-but this t-time, I m-made a p-p-playlist..." He said gesturing to his speakers.

"Bill...please, I just can't do this right now" Stan said and Bill tilted his head, confused. "I've got a lot going on, can you just stop, before the ceiling falls down" 

"B-B-But..." Bill began and Stan shool his head.

"I'm sorry Bill, please, I can't do thos right now" Stan said thinking for a moment. "Just...I'll talk to you tommorow, at Mike...yeah? Everything will be sorted out then"

Bill frowned, hesistant but nodded anyway.

Stan managed to hop away in time for his next lesson. Risking a detention from Mr Davis, Stan spent all lesson building up the courage to text Crashmat. 

**We need to talk,**   
**I'll see you at Mike's,**   
**tommorow, please, it's**   
**important.**

**Yours, Disaster Boy x**   
  


  
**A:N: Sorry for late update, term ended this week, so all I've been doing is work. We couldn't have a chapter without Bill's failed love attempts. Just a warning, shit's gonna go down next chapter, so yeah, maybe will get some answers. Thanks for surviving this story so far :)**


	22. {They Both Die In The End}

It was yet another day that Stan found himself comparing himself to the overweight sheep in Shaun the Sheep.

Not because he was always eating and because it took seven people to move him, like Richie suggested. 

It was a usual reference to his hair, it was big and seemed to get the entire Aldi ile stuck in it.

It was a revaltion that occured as he caught his reflection in the morning and saw his hair. But to be honest, that was on him for breaking his first bathroom rule (oh yes they're many, feel free to pre-order Stan's book 'Crisis On The Toilet' for more details) of looking in the mirror with the bathroom light on.

It was a rule to try and stop himself from popping any spots he may find, as yes, growing out of them was the biggest lie he was ever told, sorry. 

If this was a film, there would almost certainly be some edgy music playing behind Stan, not too loud, not to quiet as he folded the ends of his sleeves and fixed his hair, looking at himself in the mirror.

Since his life, was thankfully not viewable to anyone who wasn't directly in his life, Stan decided to listen to some Eminem songs that were older than him, to look better than he felt.

He was nervous, but he owed it to everyone to not run from it, instead run towards it.

Stan smirked at his reflection, _Now that's a line, I need to write that down before I forget it._

In every other moment before this, whenever Stan walked through the cold streets and crowded hallways of Mike's house, he always felt a flush of anticipation take over him, an electric sensation.

But now, everything seemed to be an obsticle, delaying the inevitable. He pushed his peers, that were never much of a comfort, but dominated any scale of distress Stan held. He was on his own, with his thoughts, in the crowd. Richie had agreed to try and look out for Bill, just in case he was here that night.

He was alone in the fear, the dread.

That all faded when Stan's phone bleeped, and he was left in his own discomfort.

**im in the kitchen**

**next to a weird**   
**robot on the surface.**

**wait no**

**that's a coffee machine**

**or is that what he wants**   
**us to think?**

Stan closed his eyes, letting himself sink inwards as he leaned against the wall. _Ok, ok, here we go, it you dare give up on this I will kill you, go in there and be a Bev, just go there tell the truth and if you let him lose yourself within him, I will lose what little respec_ _t I have for you._ He told himself. 

"Hello, Crashmat?" Stan said, trying not to be too quiet so he wouldn't hear him, but no too loud to draw attention to himself and make him look like an idiot.

"Hey disaster boyyy" A familair voice stumbled, sluring a little. His arms made themselves comfortable around Stan's waist, a spark to the gasoline inside of Stan, causing him to melt under the touch. "I've missed you" He teased, dangerously close to Stan and that was before he leaned into him. 

"I need to talk to you..." Stan began, looking around the room to see if there would be a light switch or something, anything so he could see who it was infront of him. Crashmat hummed in response, his lips grazing Stan's jaw, and down to his neck. 

Stan exhaled heavily as he leaned back into the wall, his eyes fluttering to a close as everything dripped in electric flames. Before Stan breathed his lips were caught in his "You taste of drugs and alochol" Stan mumbled between sharp kisses, "And cigarrettes, it's only nine...is everything ok?" 

Stan felt his sigh on his lips, "It's been a shit day, days, weeks..." He mumbled as he reconnected their lips, and Stan closed his eyes, but the closure didn’t let him see darkness, it instead created colours of fondness. "But, you make it better, you always do" 

Stan's heart felt heavy, as heat rolled onto him. "What happened?"Stan tried but Crashmat was more interested in slipping his hands beneath Stan's shirt. _Oh fuck._

"Nothing I can tell you..." Crashmat muttered his lips capturing Stan's again. "It doesn't matter, you're more important" 

Stan hummed beneath his lips, clasping his hands on his cheeks in order to push Crashmat away but it only deepened the kiss. _Oh fuck, I really need to learn some self-control._ Stan scolded himself. 

Stan rested his arms around his neck when he found himself resting on the kitchen surface, their heads pressed against each other. "I can't do this anymore..." Stan mumbled, a little out of breath, his heart as heavy as it's ever been. "I have to know, I have to know who you are...my head will explode, you know what it gets like when I don't know things..." 

Stan could feel Crashmat's gaze darken as it pooled through him, Stan lost his gaze, looking down as he bit his bruised lip. Crashmat nuzzled his nose, bring his head up to face him. "I thought you liked the mystery..." Crashmat began, and Stan sighed. 

"I did" Stan admitted "Loved it even, but there is only so long I can left in the deep end...the year's ending" 

"We can't think of the future...everything happens in the moment" Crashmat said, his touch tracing every cut, scar, faint freckle on Stan's skin, like he was trying to draw constellations through Stan's darkness but everything was too polluted to see any stars. 

"I have to..." Stan pressed "Because, I can only be reckless before it hurts others, not after" Stan cupped his cheeks. "Please" 

He felt Crashmat sigh within his clasp, hesistant. "What if that ruins everything? What if we lose everything?" 

"This was only ever be anything, if we find out what it is" Stan said, "We can't lose everything if we let ourselves become nothing" 

Crashmat fell closer into Stan, kissing him softly through the darkness. "I understand...I know we can't do this forever" Crashmat whispered. "I just need some time..." Stan sighed. "Look, prom is next week, let me have that, I'll meet you there. I'll be waiting, on the roof, above the library. There are a few things I have to deal with first..." 

"Ok" Stan agreed. "I'll wait for you, that's a promise, by then, I hope you figure out what you want" 

"You too" Crashmat said, and Stan froze. "Neither of us would be doing this if we knew what we wanted" 

Stan smiled, softly, even through his last kiss with Crashmat. And when I say last, it really was their last kiss as Disaster boy and Crashmat. 

There was a loud crash followed after Richie crashed through the room, he pushed through couples remaing at PG against the walls. No not around, he really did push through them. 

"We've got an emergency" Richie said, touching every surface until his hands reached Stan's hair, then he dropped his hand back. "We've fucked up, I had to find you through your find my IPhone-"

"Wait you have my password for that?" Stan asked, unable to see Richie's expression under the faint purple light. "How long for?"

"We don't have time for this" Richie said quickly, reaching for his arm, accidently opening a cupboard at first try. "We've got to go now!"

"I'm a little occupied Rich" Stan said, looking over to Crashmat who had remained quiet, probably not to draw any attention to himself, Richie hadn't seemed to notice him. 

"I'm serious" Richie said "Bill's here, Bev said she saw him arrive earlier, he's been looking for you apparently. This is an emergency" 

"So what Rich?" Stan said, too tired to be dealing with Richie's panic plans or to catch on with what he was suggesting. 

"So what?" Richie asked, shouting over the music. "You promised him you'd talk to him tonight, and I don't think you're ready to explain to him that you haven't solved your problem. You know the problem, where you're almost fucking two different guys at the same time and you can't tell Bill that because you've fallen in love with him because you thought he was your annonymous lover, who you're only with because your head can't cope with not knowing things" Richie ranted. "So that's what, Stan, this huge problem just because you wanted to win a bet before prom"

In that moment everything stopped being alive, and for once, there was no music, everything grew silent.

"Stan?" Crashmat asked, and Stan didn't have to be able to see Richie's face to know it fell. "As in Stanley Uris?"

Those words became a small spark,  
began to relight Stan's fear...a tiny but warm flame had been washed out.

"Oh shit..." Richie said "How long was he there for?"

"That's all I was to you? A puzzle?"Crashmat asked, his words stumbling ovet eachother, the effects of the drugs wearing out. "Someone to mess around with whilst you fell deep for someone else? A bet? A mystery? A problem for your thoughts? Of all things you seemed to be, Stanley Uris, a heartbreaker never scraped the surface"

Although Stan couldn't see much, he felt him leave, like the last light of the world abadonning him. Everything being isolated in dark, broken glass, like a broken mirror.

What was once whole wae shattered; where once was peace was now emptiness, echoes of a love he fell deep into.

"I'm so sorry Stan, oh fuck, fuck, fuck" Richie said "I was getting defensive Bill, I shouldn't have said anything...I fucked up, I fucked everything, I'm so sorry"

"It's fine" Stan muttered, his gaze drawn to everything and nothing at the same time. "I guess it was inevitable, it's rare we get what we deserve, but I guess there was only so long I could break both if them before it caught up with me. I couldn't have both, because I deserve neither"

Richie wrapped his arm around Stan's shoulder pulling him closer, "Come on Stan, we've got to get out of here, we can't be breaking four hearts in one evening"

"Four?" Stan asked, lost in the traces of numbness.

"My heart broke too Stan, my heart always breaks with yours" Richie said and Stan tried to give him a small smile.

 _You can't have both_ , and in some fucked up way, Stan didn't even get to chose or solve it himself. The worst part being, he still didn't know who Crashmat was.

**𓆲**

  
Stan kept his head down, hoodie up and headphones in when he walked into school on the Monday.

It was a new form of torture for Stan, as everhthing burned with him. Stan stained the floor with his broken heart. It ran from his mouth and he choked on the air. It bleed from his eyes and dripped from his chin. So yes, his head stayed low, heavy with thoughts of him.

Rumours went round quickly, everyobe had heard of Stan's little situation from the party as Richie's voice was as loud as a foghorn. He even made an appearance on the Derry High meme page. Stan didn't really give a fuck, the only person he was worried about knowing was Bill.

There was no way the gossip wouldn't have got to him by now, it had been two days since the incident, so it was inevitable.

As soon as Stan looked up, he saw Bill at the other end of the corridor, without hesisation he ran into the nearest cleaner's cupboard and hid. _There was no way he could deal with this, not again._

He didn't even have to look to know where about Ben was in the corridor, as he was playing the harmonica loudly. Stan dragged Ben the cupboard with him when he walked past.

"Oh, hi Stan" Ben said, unaffected by his kidnapp.

"Ben, there is no way in fuck I can face him, he knows" Stan stressed and Ben nodded, trying to calm him down by serenading him with some harmonica tunes. "If he comes looking for me...just tell him something, please"

"Leave it with me, don't worry" Ben said with a grin "But you should probably now I'm shit at lying"

"It's nothing major, you just have to keep him away from the truth" Stan said and Ben began to panic.

"Tell him what? I'm never good in these situations, I couldn't even do it as a child, everytime I took the biscuits without asking-" Ben rambled.

"Just tell him I'm busy" Stan suggested and Ben's eyes widened.

"What?"Ben asked "That's a brilliant idea, why have I never thought of that? Busy. Sorry Bill, Stan can't talk right now he's very busy" He practised, looking incredibly please with himself.

"Just don't let him find me" Stan said, opening the cupboard door. "I'll be in the library"

"Course not...you're busy" Ben said and Stan laughed, before making his way to his French lesson.

Now it should be important to note, that Ben did spend all of his first lesson practising, just in case he did bump into Bill. But that didn't help him for his actual comfrontation.

Maybe Stan should've hid with Ben, or just not rely on Ben.

"Hi B-B-Ben" Bill said quietly, as he sat down next to Ben in the cafeteria. "Have you s-seen S-S-Stan?"

Ben took a deep breath, turning around, fixing his hair before he looked up to Bill. "I'm afraid Stan can't see you Bill, he's very busy...goodbye"

"Sure h-h-he is" Bill said, with a bored glance.

"Bye" Ben said quickly and Bill rolled his eyes.

"W-What is he d-doing exactly?" Bill asked and Ben froze.

"Errrr...he's doing fine" Ben said, a little top quickly.

"N-Not how is he d-doing, w-what i-is he doing?" Bill asked again and Ben felt his hand tremble.

"Errrrrrrr....." He tried, but no words or thoughts could connect.

"I'm j-just going to c-check the l-library" Bill said, standing up.

"No!" Ben said quickly "You can't do that"

"I-I-It won't t-take long" Bill said "I-I'll be f-fine"

"No it won't" Ben protested.

"I-I'll j-just be t-two seconds" Bill pressed turning around to set off.

"You can't" Ben tried again.

"W-Why not?" Bill asked, as he walked further away.

Ben panicked. "BECAUSE HE'S DEAD!"

Bill froze and the entire cafeteria grew silent. "What?" Bill asked dropping his text book from his hands

"Yeah...he erm...died...last night" Ben said

"He died?" Bill asked, raising his eyebrow and Ben nodded quickly.

"Yup...completely" Ben said, looking around him awkwardly, this seemed to draw more attention from the people around him.

"Stanley Uris?" One the girls who had joined the table asked. "I don't believe it"

"Well I wouldn't make up something like that, would I?" Ben said and Bill sat back down on the table.

"What happened?" Another girl asked "Was it the food from Mike's?"

"Yes it was...why not?" Ben said and the girls gasped.

"I know it's terrible, but thank God, I brought my own food" A lad said as he sat down at the table.

"This is awful, we will have to have a memorial this afternoon" Another lad added and Ben tried to hide his groan in a cough.

"Oh fuck" Ben muttered to himself.

**𓆲**

By some miracle, Stan managed to avoid Bill that lunch, and seemingly everyone else in the school. It seemed like everyone had congregated in the cafeteria when he walked passed, all surrounded around the table Ben was at. 

Stan didn't think much of it, but felt a little relieved that for once, things were leaning towards his favour. 

"Yeah Stanley Uris, the one in my history class" He heard Mr Davis talk to a PE teacher, Stan walked quickly passed them, pulling his hood up again. _Fuck, even the teachers knew about his heartbreak._ "A tradegy, but maybe Tozier will stop talking in my class" 

When Stan got to his locker, he almost jumped back in shock ad for some reason, it was coated in cards, heart poems and flowers. He looked around him suspicously. At first Stan thought someone had got the wrong locker, but realized that the pamphlets with his school photo on that said **_'Stanley Uris, 2002-2020_** ' couldn't really be for anyone else.

"Shit..."Stanley mumbled, as he opened his locker to get his walking boots out to change his shoes, "Did I miss me and Richie's friendship anniversary again?" 

Richie wasn't answering any of his calls, and neither were any of the Losers. _Weird._

But it was better that Stan couldn't find Richie as he was going to kill him for putting these pamphlets everywhere. This was so much worse than last year. 

It got weirder when no one turned up for Stan's next lesson, instead everyone was in the hall, for some sort of secret meeting they didn't tell him about and from what Stan could here, they were talking about it. 

Fuck, this is just a nightmare, no way is this real. 

"Mr Uris, was a bright pupil, a friend, a son, he will be missed" He heard the headmistress tell the students. _Yup, thid is an actual nightmare._

He ran through the corridor, hoping that something will run into him suddenly and he'll wake up, like he was ina shit rom-com. 

"I heard y-you were dead" A familair voice said and Stan froze, before he turned around slowly to face Bill.

"I think those rumours were exaggerated" Stan said, still unsure how any of this occured in the first place. 

"You l-lied to me" Bill said quietly, shifting quickly to the point. "I t-thought you a-actually liked me Stan , f-for once, I t-thought, I had m-met someone w-who wasn't going to hurt m-me. Y-You led me on, you k-kissed me, because if w-what? Because you t-thought I was s-someone else was t-that the only reason you l-liked me?" His voice cracked and it took all of Stan's strength not to wrao his arms around the broken boy and hug him.

Stan shook his head "That's not it Bill, I really did like you, I really do...it's just all so fucked, right now" 

"W-Why?" Bill asked, his voice shaking "B-Because you c-can't play around w-with two p-people's heartd at the s-same time anymore?" 

Stan swallowed heavily, everything inside of him burning. Bill's eyes fell into a glassy trance as he held back a sob. "Y-You used me S-Stan, I d-don't even know w-why...w-w-why did you want to hurt me?"

"It wasn't my intention" Stan tried, advancing closer to Bill, on the verge of breaking down. Bill took a step back. "Please...I never wanted to hurt you"

"But you d-d-did" Bill said. "B-Because you o-only thought about yourself, l-like you always do. You w-were only ever worried about what y-you would lose, not anyone else. You didn't think about us, you don't, that's why yoy attacked Richie, that's why you used someone else's heart ad a game, a fucking bet of all things. It's why you let me fall for you, even though you knew what would happen. You knew what it would do to you, you didn't care about what it would do to me" 

"You're cruel, emotionless and you don't know what to do when people care about you...when people are fucking clinically insane enough to care about you..."Bill wiped his eyes, sniffing softly, before oullung his hood ovet his head. "You're a fucked person Stan" Bill said "And you disgust me" He added before pushing past Stan and leaving the corridor, not stuttering once. 

As soon as Bill was gone Stan walked out of the school, collapsing onto the the concrete, sobbing his heart out and regretting everything. In that moment everything broke. 

The vibrant rays of the sunset that casted reflection of gold and scarlet across my surrounding, face it's colour, darkening it tone and failing in variation of shade. 

The sun had left as quickly as Bill did, leaving Stan's world without colour and heat, lacing his skin in a thick layer of ice and clouding his eyes with a dark lense. 

The dark thunder clouds rolled in covering the last of the twilight sky, as if the blackness failed to come fast enough. The rolling grey rapidly became as invisible as the stars it concealed, but the air still felt humid. 

The low sky imparts a claustrophobic tension and Stan couldn't find any energy to move away and allowed the drops of melted ice to mingle with the tears in his skin. 

He had never felt so alone...

_You can't have both._

_You can't have anything_   
  
  
  



	23. {The Afternoon's Hat}

  
There's a moth that keeps flying into the lightbulb, the window's wide open as well, but it can't articulate itself in a form of escape. Stan makes a considerable decision not to recruit the moth for his hyperthetical prison escape.

Well therapy escape.

The moth is always there, it seems like it's been trapped since the beginning with him, Stan pondered whether that made the moth hid therapy pet...if so, he baptized him Andrew, just in case.

"This Richard Tozier...you say you haven't known him as long as some of your...what did you call them again?" Nya asked, lowering her clipboard and resting it on her floral skirt that covered her crossed legs.

"Losers..." Stan mumbled and she nodded, perhaps he liked Nya, he wasn't to sure. She was the sort to give her grand kids hand knitted kitten jumpers for christmas and collect buttons. But she was a therapist, and by occupation Stan feared her. He didn't really want to know what was wrong with her.

"But he's become a sort of...attachment to you? Someone who you can't 'breathe without'?" She asked. "But you hurt him?"

Stan sighed heavily, crumpling the piece of paper in his hands. "He became a part of me...I loved him that much, and that's where it went wrong. When you can't differ between yourself and thm, because you are each other, you blame yourself and you think you're hurting your own self...but you're not..." Stan explained. "Because...no one, ever loves them self"

Nya nodded, trying not to look intemidated by Stan's hard stare. This was all Richie, Stan doesn't really remember, but apparently he lost his shit again and he made a promise to Richie as well...and so, he didn't break. To be honest, he'd take this over becoming apathetic with medication. _Alexa play Therapy by Khalid._

"Dependency isn't always good thing Stanley..." Nya said "You can't rely on other people for your own sustainability...you know what happens..."

"You take them down with you...I know, I did that to Richie" Stan mumbled.

"We often hurt the ones we love the most..." Nya said and Stan shifted uncomfortable.

"Bullshit" Stan muttered and she tilted her head to the side, confused. She did that a lot when she was talking to him, Stan noticed.

He cleared his throat. "It's another fabrication derived from the need for us to excuse the way we unconciously torture each other...promoted through literature and the media. The proposition to excuse people who 'love' us that hurt us...to excuse domestic violence as someone not knowing what they doing, that love destroys us. To allow everyone to treat their family how they want...because they unconditionally love you. Love doesn't mean pain, doesn't mean commitment to fucked up things..." Stan explained "We hurt people because we take them for granted and forget ourselves, we forget that the world isn't only drowning in our tears"

Nya looks back at her clipboard, scribbling something down. Andrew flies into the window, not through it, into it. Stan finds this strangely relatable.

"You said once that for you love is congurent with guilt..." Nya began, placing her words carefully. "Is this because of Bill?"

"No..." Stan said, sighing heavily, _oh here we go._ "It's because of everyone...everyone loses something when they fall into place with my heart...my mum, when I was diagonised, lost nearly everything to depression and my dad nearly did the same because of it. Richie's still haunted by some of the shit I've said to him when I was angry...it's like I'm a cataylist to everyone's pain...maybe I don't cause it, but I do make it worse"

"These people are still in your life Stanley..." Nya said softly. "That must mean something" 

"I know they love me...but they also feel responsible for me. And I don't want to do that for them" Stan explained. "It's why I'm here...no offense"

"It's alright" She said, giving him a small smile. "Let's talk about guilt if that's alright?And how it presents itself?" Stan nodded again. "You said guilt and reason seem to collide, in a person?"

Stan's fingertips tapped the side of his leg, in a distinctive, calming pattern, like he always did when he was nervous. "Not exactly..." He muttered "More as in the guilt forms a conflict, a commom sense of sorts to argue with me...Bev"

Nya nodded again, writing whatever the fuck down in her clipboard. "Do you want to talk about your Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?" She asked and with that his watch beeped, indictating their session was over... _thank fuck, saved by the, almost bell._

"Thanks" Stan mumbled, picking his coat up as he stood up. "See you next week" Nya gave him a small smile, which he returned.

Stan walked down the corridor, putting his headphones in, tripping over when he recognised someone at the end of the corridor. He groaned as he shifted on his back uncomfortably, letting the boy standing over him, concerner, help him up.

"What are you doing here Ben?" Stan asked and Ben's smile only grew.

"Oh the school's making me come here after I told everyone you were dead" He said in a chirpy voice, Stan grinned. "But there's free biscuits, so I'm not complaining"

"Fair" Stan said, giving Ben a long hug before making his way back home.

**𓆲**

Stan's parents seemed to have formulated a conjoined mindset, where Stan was dying or something. 

Stan wasn't dying, he wasm't even relapsing, he didn't think so. His parents did this last time, last time he had a psychological break down, he wasn't diagonised then, but he was now, so surely things would be different now? He didn't know. The only benefit was that he got a lot fo excessive food and didn't have to go to school. 

But Stan's parents weren't the strangest thing that was in his holdhouse anymore. "Nan?" Stan asked and he walked into the kitchen, placing his coat down. She was cooking, well Stan assumed that was intention, but the spagetti in the pan was on fire...and Stan was too tired to even mention it. 

"What's wrong with you, Peanut?" Nan asked him as she decided to add baked beans to the burning pasta, because why not? "You look worse than usual" 

Stan sighed, sitting on the counter opposite her. "I kind of unintentially fucked everything up" He said. 

"Runs in the family...how do you think your father was born?" Nan asked as she passed Stan a suspicous looking cup of tea. When she was looking he poured it in the plant pot. _That's probably why they always die._ "What did you do this time?" 

"I accidently became an antoganist, like a player, unintentially, and now, everyone nows...and the boy I like blocked my number" Stan explained. 

"How do you accidently do that?" She asked and Stan shrugged. 

"I couldn't decide who I fell deep for, I didn't even know...I fell for a boy I knew and then someone else got caught up in my crippling mind games" Stan explained. "I'll never know what I want, so maybe it's for the best...OW!" Stan cupped his cheek, after his Nan had thrown a rather large wooden spoon at him. 

"Don't be stupid Stan" Nan said, shaking her head. "Pitying yourself and regretting everything is fucking stupid, it's a waste of time. You know what you want...you always know, this issue is about you not wanting to admit the truth, because the truth means you lose something either way...always does"

Stan let his head tilt up to ceiling. "The truth doesn't deserve me..." He mumbled and Nan scoffed. 

"I didn't deserve your useless grandad, but I still loved him. We never get what we deserve. I'm not having you moping around, it doesn't go with this Bowie song. Make a way to fix this or you won't get any dinner" She said and Stan tried not to mention that her food was deadly and that would actually save his life. 

"Fine...but it's a lost cause" Stan said, jumping off the counter. "It won't work...some really fucked things happened, they'll never forgive me" 

"Everything happens for a reason Stanley...and we are who we are for that reason" She pressed. "If they don't take you, then that's just the way things are, you can't force people to love you. You can only fix your mistakes" 

Stan's mind had never worked quicker, he had never typed so quickly. But he knew she was right, everyone else had been right, Stan had avoided the truth. He knew exactly who he'd fallen deep for, down far, down to hell, drowned for. 

Dear Crashmat. 

I'm sorry, for everything. I know that's pathetic and a little along lines of my unintential cheater personality. But you deserve the truth, and nothing but the truth. This didn't happen because I'm apathetic or selfish. This happened because within the weight of everything that ever happened and ever will happen, I had this issue where I couldn't face reality, where I didn't know what was real and wasn't. If this was literature , you were a sort of representation a symbol of this, of this feeling of everything feel detached from me. Like I'm watching someone else's life, and things that were actually not real, always felt like my own. 

This happened because it didn't feel real, and neither did the consequences. I'm sorry. 

Everything that was you, imprinted itself in my mind and I think in some other part of the universe, me and you could've been the last light before the night. But, I promised the truth, the truth is, I'm fell deep, woth a boy named Bill Denbrough. 

He doesn't deserve this, I don't deserve any of him, but I can't keep lying, not anymore. 

But I need something from you, I know it isn't fair, or deserved. I need to know who you are, I'll never sleep again...selfish I know, but I'll owe you for the rest of your life. Please.

I'll be at the meeting place we discussed, at prom, where you promised you'd be. I hope you don't leave me alone.

Yours, Stan x

**SEND**

Stan guessed this meant he had to get ready for Prom. 


	24. {Where Is My Mind Without You?}

  
When Stan said he should invest in a sustainable alarm club, he didn't mean Richie Tozier.

" **Attention, Attention** " Richie shouted with his microphone from the street, causing Stanley and several other of his neighbours to jump out of bed suddenly, to see which zombie apocalypse had started. "Stanthony get the fuck out of bed!" He lowered his megaphone, waiting for a response, checking his watch disappointed. 

" **I repeat!** " Richie shouted down the megaphone, " **Stanley Uris, I kindly request that you depart from your accommodation!** " He added in some form of English accent, which would only be recognisable if he was a rich land owner in Renaissance times, even then he was pushing it.

"Shut the fuck up!" One of Stan's neighbours, from their window and then another. It kind of reminded Stan of that scene in Beauty and The Beast, but no one was that nice in Derry. 

Richie was quick to face the direction of where the voice came from " **Affirmative!** " He said before turning to face Stanley's house again. How his parents had slept through this made Stan consider that perhaps they had been murdered in their sleep...saved from Richie. " **Last chance Stan before I start singing the entire Frozen soundtrack again** " There was a loud series of protests from Stan's neighbours.

Stan groaned opened his window, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked, looking out of his window at the tall boy, his curls still messy from sleep. He wasn't used to being woken up by a fucking military drill. "Where did you even get that?"

"Police station, isn't cool?" Richie asked excitably, still surprised they even lent it to him. Stan didn't want that, he wanted NAMES, so he knew who do take to court for aiding and abetting. "Stan get changed, I'm not having you sleep through prom again, not now that you're going to be singing"

"That was one time, I was hungover!" Stan complained "I'm not the one going to be singing, there is no way you're winning this Rich"

" **Famous last words** " Richie's voice boomed back at him and Stan rolled his eyes. "See you soon"

"Fuck off" Stan shouted back and Richie laughed.

" **Affirmative!** " Richie confirmed and Stan tried to hide his smile, but failed, miserably. "I love you too Stan...did everyone hear that? **I fucking love my wife Stanley Uris!** "

"Bye Richie!" Stan tried again and Richie grinned at him "I'm the husband!" Richie saluted him before picking up his bike and cycling away. Stan gave his neighbours an apologetic look, before retreating back to bed. The story of how he got evicted from his house he guessed. 

Stan had been to a decent amount of parties in the past, birthday parties where you played pass-the-parcel and ate mini sausage rolls, school discos where you had glow sticks and danced to _Barbie Girl_ and the _Makerina,_ then teen parties, just to get pissed and high. Stan had sort of formed an internal hierarchy over the years, with the God God tier parties being any party with a Colin the Caterpillar cake, and alcohol. So yeah, Stan had been to a few different types of parties in his lifetime, but up until now I had never been so ready to summon some form of sleep paralysis demon than go. 

"You look so handsome" Stan's mum said pinching his cheek, and Stan frowned as she ruffled his curls, she instantly stopped smiling when she noticed Stan's expression, cursing herself as she tried to place his hair back in it's distinctive pattern. "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting and I know that's such a terrible..."

"It's fine" Stan lied, biting his tongue so he wouldn't mention that she would be the one to die if she ruined Stan's system...it was her fault, it was just the way things work. _The consequences._ Just like Stan had to find Crashmat tonight, if he didn't, _they would all die._ No matter how Nya told him otherwise. 

"Are you sure you want to go? You look nervous..." His mum began and Stan gave her a forced smile. "If your friends are pressuring you go, you don't have to"

Stan bit his lip, letting the sleeves of his oversized blue suit cover his hands, "Everything will be there tonight...I'm not running away or leaving things be, not this time" He said and his mum nodded eventhough she wasn't really sure what he was referring to. 

"I know you may not think so Stan...but you really are a wonder, and everything that I love most in this world. And I hope one day you'll see in yourself what I see in you. Every star, every wish that I ever clasped onto, all faded into you. You're not without emotion Stan, you're emotions aren't out of sync with what's right...you care for people, help your friends when they go through grief, protect them when they say the wrong things, you make people laugh and you're sensitive, maybe too sensitive. You may be detatched, but not from the world, only from the things that usually hurt people, what others think of you. And there are days, where you struggle, but that doesn't take you away from any value, and on those days I want to do whatever I can, to stop you from counting the windows over and until you hyperventilate. But I've learnt is no matter what choice I was given now...I wouldn't take away who you are from yourself, that you can take better care of your life than I could ever dream of" She said and Stan wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. 

"I feel like I'm losing my mind" He whispered to her and she nodded. 

"No one ever did anything with one..." She said and Stan laughed "Your Dad is still apparently fine and he still can't figure out how to build that chair...that folded chair"

"I'm making progress!" His Dad shouted from downstairs and his mum muttered something beneath her breath before hugging Stan one more time, leaving the room.

Stan was supposed to be going to the prom with Rue and Bev, as they lived closest to him, but they hadn't set off yet as Stan was still stuck on the phone with Richie "Trashmouth I don't give a fuck about your sore throat that was the deal remember? I tell my parents and you tell Eddie how you feel"

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" Richie asked, dramatically on the other end of the phone and Stan rolled his eyes again. 

"Do you seriously want romance advice...from me?" Stan asked and the long pause on the other end of the phone, Stan took as a no. "Just trying talking to him and be honest..no jokes, no euphemisms, just tell him" Richie was reluctant but ended up agreeing anyway. 

Stan looked back at the mirror one last time, _Ok, here we fucking go._  
  


**𓆲**

  
Stan was already too nervous to describe what it all looked like, but he'd tell you, prom, doesn't look anything like Disney Channel told him...so Stan already wanted to leave this old building and it's bundle of LIES. But he remembered that he couldn't do that. 

Stan had to do that human hand-holding train thing to get through the corridor, _Party Rock Anthem_ , blasting through the sports hall like it was 2010 again and life was good. Everyone seemed to be here but Richie, which was concerning and Stan was worried he was bailing on him.

"Where's Trashmouth?" Eddie asked and Stan shrugged, "I'll look at the food table, maybe he's hibernating" He suggested and Stan offered to go with him, letting Ben dance with Bev again. Through their noble expectation they spoke to Conner and bought some Anti-Henry cupcakes, almost lost Eddie in crush by a wild pack of lesbians and had to explain to the paramedics and police that it was not his fault that his English teacher went it to cardiac arrest when she saw him...she just thought he was dead. But no Richie. 

They almost gave up, but there was a painful screech that omitted through the room, everyone covered their ears in discomfort. "Ah sorry, technical difficulties" Richie's voice boomed through a megaphone. _Oh fuck._ Stan thought

"What's he doing?" Eddie asked, his worried expression deepened

"Fuck, fuck" Stan muttered,

" **I have a confession to make...Eddie....I have been helplessly infatuated and in love with you since the day I met you!** " His voice boomed through the megaphone and Eddie looked like he was about to die, but also shocked...like it wasn't obvious? " **So I was wondering...would you like to go out with me?** " All eyes were on Eddie and he was a red as a tomato

"Of course I will you idiot" Eddie shouted "I've been flirting with you for the past month! Why couldn't you have just asked me...via text or something?"

Richie grinned "Because..." he began before switching to his megaphone " **Because I wanted to find the perfect way to tell you...and after many moons of searching, my bestfriend Stan taught me to just be myself!** "

"WHAT? No" Stan shouted "I specifically told you not to do that...don't blame me for this!"

Everything seemed to continuate itself in a fairly mundane manner after that event, Stan danced with a few more of his friends...staring anxiously at the clock... _midnight_ , that's when he said he'd meet Crashmat. _Five minutes._ Mike noticed Stan's anxious state and distracted him by dancing to some Oasis song with him. 

_3 minutes._

Stan hesitantly let Mike release him arms, setting him free to walk out of the sports hall, down the empty corridors of the school. _'You're cruel, emotionless and you don't know what to do when people care about you...when people are fucking clinically insane enough to care about you...'_ Bill's voice echoed through his heartbeat. 

_2 minutes._

He walked through the empty library, the memories overwhelming him, pooling into him, leaving scorch marks in his heart as they burnt him. _"I have a-an English g-gaydar, Will B-Byers is an E-English nerd"._ The soft summer breeze whispered past Stan's ears and brushed his cheeks, nose as he climbed out onto the roof top of the library. His hands fiddled nervously with the end of his sleeves. 

_1 minute._

Stan was never late, but Crashmat was always early. His distant figure let itself reside on the edge of the roof, balancing on the edge letting himself become the line between life and death, and with every step Stan took, those lines began to blur. 

Stan's footsteps drifted towards him slower, like he was underwater. It was like he'd drifted straight out of a snapshot from Stan's memory. It was almost as if it wasn't real, as if Stan's memories were organized within an abandoned record and the boy resembled a dream of a broken vintage record, one with low saturation and more grey hues than anything.

It seemed that he had turned the record on this time and the memories played like a scratched tune, the darkness was embedded with a constellation of colour, stars enriched in vibrant tones, planets dissolved in a captivating palette and an aurora locked in place by blended neon starlight and slashed water colour, all smoothly embroidered by a smooth, soft brush stroke. The zeros started to line up on his watch.

_00:00_

Stanley breathed, but no air saved him. 

"Bill..." Stanley whispered to the boy in front of him, his voice shaking "You've got a lot of explaining to do"

_Where is my mind?_

**𓆲**

  
  
  
  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	25. {Everlong}

  
Time was nothing.

And nothing was the short breaths between them, the one's that fell idle in a decaying trance, as they profided neither of them with comfort or any life. Nothing was the air that slipped past his lungs without any chance of return. Nothing was the dark clouds that coated the sky above them and dipped down into the rims around Bill's anxious stare.

Time was nothing and Bill Denbrough was everything. _If moments could breathe, if looks could kill. If moments could breathe when looks kill._

"W-W-Wuh-Where do y-you want m-me to b-begin?" Bill struggled to ask and Stan's gaze softened, he tried to take a forward, but that only made Bill step back.

"You don't have to worry Bill...I just want to know how the fuck this happened and how you managed to maipulate and lie and-" Stan stopped himself, clearly his throat. _Keep it together Stan, remember your meditation practises_. "Just...the truth, from the beginning..." _Close your eyes._

Bill was hesistant, he jumped down from his little Tumblr aesthetic shit he was doing, his hands in his pocket and breath shaken, Stan knew it would be out of place for him to tell him that this was in fact real...this was life and not film. "B-B-Beverly Marsh..." He began slowly, before closing his eyes and tilted his eyes back. "All this s-shit started because of Bev..." _Take a nice deep breath, imagine your cave._

"She made you go to Mike's party, right?" Stan guessed "That's what you told me that night, that you came with Bev? I did ask her, but she said she didn't even remember that we went to Mike's party the morning after, let alone who she went with" _Imagine you're in your cave, your nice, peaceful cave._

Bill nodded soflty, like everything hurt with regret. "She was there for me, when...Georgie first disappeared. Tried everything to distract me, thought that would be a good idea, how wrong she was" _YOU'RE IN YOUR CAVE STAN!_

"That wasn't the first one you went to I'm guessing" Stan speculated and Bill nodded hesistantly. _Within your cave, look for you comfort animal...your otter._

"I had done, with Rue..." Bill explained. "I've known her for a few years now,she's the one that..." He trailed off and Stan's gaze tried to find his but failed.

"Fucked you over on drugs?" Stan concluded for him and for the first time that evening, Bill's eyes locked into Stan's and with that look, the stars were united but there was no light.

"It wasn't her intention I don't think...but she was the first person Stan, the first person who didn't give me sympathy...she got rid of the pain" Bill said and Stan shook his head softly.

"That's why you had two phones. She numbed the pain...she didn't get rid of anything Bill, you're still hurting, and as fucked as it is...it's the only way you've managed to keep him with you" Stan said firmly. "And you need to find another way"

Bill rolled his eyes. "Before you told me that I was incapable of seeing how my actions have corrupted my life, your love really has saved me Stan..." Bill said sarcastically. _In the cave, the cave starts to flood._

"You're not going to scare me away Bill by trying to be a cunt..." Stan began and Bill's smirk fell. "I won't leave until you give me the truth...stop trying to hide from it"

Bill sighed again, groaning loudly. "I met you for the first time at the party...I didn't know it was you, I didn't lie about that. I was completely infatuated with you, the idea of you, someone I could connect with...who didn't regard me with my tragic backstory. The perfect mystery, better than any book I ever read" He said. "Everytime reality was shit, unbareable and I needed a break from it all, it was like I could disappear and dip away into the daydream that was your disaster. You made nothing seem real, and I fell for that"

Stan stiffened, not really sure what to do with all this new...chaotic infomation, to say the least. _The walls came crashing it in, the otter is crushed with this overwhealming guilt._

"Then I met you, as Stanley Uris, the boy who cares enough to look out for me, but never mention it. The boy who'd waste his days distracting me from my pain" Bill said, his voice barely a whisper. "The boy constantly fighting his own thoughts, the boy who didn't know the difference between dream or reality, the boy who lied to me...the one I fell deep for..." _The otter's discarded body drowns in the flood of confusion and arousal._

"I think you know what's it felt like, to feel like your falling for two different people, for two polarizing types of people...one feels real and one feels like you imagined them all along. But you don't know which is which" Bill explained, his eyes shifting between Stan and the floor, nervously. "I fell for two parts of the same person...both sides of their soul, and it fucked me up pretty bad"

"I'm sorry..." Stan began "I really am, but, I still have to know...why did you let me believe I had lost everything?"

"You didn't" Bill corrected him. "Because people don't make everything, I wasn't your everything, love shouldn't be" Stan couldn't help but agree with him on that. _The remains of the otter are feasted on by it's prey. Irony and shit._

"Every moment I spent with you, both sides of you, I fell deeper and deeper until I inevitably drowned...I tried, I tried to stay away from you at the parties...but I was out of my mind, high out of my mind..." He continued, his tone laced with hesistation. "I think I was addicted to your annoynmous mannerism, you were stronger than any drug Stanley Uris...neither half I preferred, I needed both, all of you"

Stan managed to restrain his last breath, trying to control the beat of his heart. "So why...why did all of this happen Bill? Why did you make me feel like I was fucking insane and shit person, when you did the exact same thing? Why?"

"Everything collapsed in on itself, when I found out it was you the entire time...Stanley Uris, my disaster boy..." He began, taking a small step closer to Stan. "Not only because you lied to me...and you were content with playing with what youthought were two people's hearts. But also, because I thought you didn't like me...the Bill me, the broken side of me, the one who can't even take care of themselves...I thought you preffered the other side...that was still me, but you couldn't see them for how pathetic they were"

Bill continued. "And then you tell me...Crashmat, that you prefer...Bill stuttering Bill. So then I start telling myself that you didn't like my honest side and preffered what I looked like...I don't know, it's a losing battle" He said, and Stan wanted to inform him that he wasn't exactly stuttering, but remembered...not the right time.

"That's because you're concluding with your instrusive thoughts...trust me no good or logic can come out from them...they want to break you..." Stan whispered "Drop them and try holding onto your heart instead" _Fuck the cave I sound like a Pinterest quote, is their aesthetic lighting or sad cartoon drawings of Disney characters we've collectively decided are clincally depressed around me?_ Stan thought to himself.

"I'm sorry..." Bill whipsered, his gazd srill resistant to Stan's, "For everything...for what I said, I was so upset and conflicted because I couldn't admit that I also fucked up, again, that I also broke you. I couldn't let you find out it was me because...I told you things, shit that I didn't want anyone to know and it scared me, scared me that there was someone in this world who would make me feel safe enough for me to tell them"

"The drugs? The fact that you're all friendly with some of Bower's pals...those things are a apart of you Bill, but they don't scare me because I know you, and I know that if anyone can save themselves it's you...and whatever happens, whatever falls with us, I'm not going to give up on you" Stan said and Bill softened.

"I felt like I was out of control of everything, that it didn't matter if I let two seperate people like me...because I didn't want to believe that anyone ever would. I shouldn't have lies, I shouldn't have turned you into a bet and I should've let you be real. I fell for the Bill I knew, fell deeper than anything, not because of anything your thoughts will tell you, but because we were honest with each other about everything that didn't matter when we didn't know he we were...but when I was with you, as Bill, the boy who heard all the weird shit that went in my head, the boy I ran away with and spent dreams with...the boy who made my heart smile and my mind feel things."

"All I wanted was to get lost in an adventure this year...Crashmat wasn't the perfect mystery...you, all of you Bill Denbrough were. You were the one that I ran away I got lost in. From swimming to cooking to just laying on your bed with you was better than any film, every dip of laughter every whisper that was you I breathed in and it kept me alive" Stan continued, unable to stop this fully blown confession which might as well have been signed with his will. "I fell deep for Crashmat...as part of you, I fell for Bill, because that was every part of you. Any part of you Bill was enough for me to fall deep"

And then there was nothing again...no sound, no air, no life. Stan was waiting, always waiting for him... _everlong._

"I hurt you Stan...what I s-s-s-said...I should've never, this who s-situation ruined you, I don't want to do anything to hurt you...and I already have" Bill whimpered, a few tears escaping his eyes. "I d-don't even know what's real anymore, i-is this even real? Or are you j-just accepting the truth?"

Stan shook his head, stepping forward and cupping Bill's cold, wet, cheek "It's real, this is real...I love you, every part of you, so much" He tried, pressing his lips softly against Bill's, who trembled beneath him, holding onto his waist.

Bill leaned his head against his. "I just...can't, I can't do this, not when I can break your heart and you can break mine so easily...we lied to each other so easily before...how do we know if this is even real, if what your saying is?" Bill asked and Stan...well Stan didn't exactly have an answer for him. That let Bill leave him there, alone in the cool breaze.

 _Don't run away._ Stan ran after Bill, knowing that there was no way this was how it was going to end. He hated shit endings. Bill made his way back through the crowded sports hall, towards the exit and Stan had the weave in and out of his peers... _SHUT UP, INNER THOUGHT RICHIE!_

"Bill!" He tried to call after him but he couldn't hear him over the music _...the fucking music._ "Bill!" He tried again. Well at least it can't get any worse than this...at the moment Stan could see the universe laughing at his wishful thinking: _LMAO NOOB!!!_

Because yes it did get worse, much, much worse.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make..." Their Geography teacher said, standing on the stage. "I'm proud to welcome our first and only live music experience of the night...everyone place put their hands together for _...Jane And The Dickheads_ "

Stan froze, completely and utterly mortified as his Nan and her band entered the stage, the entire room quiet. _Oh fuck...wait maybe, no one will even know it's my Nan._

"This first song is dedicated for my grandson Stanley!" Nan's voice boomed through the mircophone and Stan was contemplating whether or not suicide via guiat string would be a dignified ending. "And for that Denbrough boy he's completely infatuated with!"

 _Much worse...the cave has disappeared into the Earth's core and the otter is extinct._ Bill froze just before the door, looking back and Stan.

"NAN!" Stan protested.

"Oh come on Peanut, it's not like you were going to do anything about it...I bet you didn't even give him that love letter" She added and Stan felt his heart fall into his stomach, _shit_ , he had that in his pocket, he was planning on giving that to Bill, the one he wrote intially when he wad writing that apology. _Now the whole school knew._

Bill knitted his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side, confused. Stan took a deep breath, they both walked slowly towards each other, Stan's heart breaking and repairing itself with every step he took. He reached for the perfectly folded piece of paper in his pocket and cupped Bill's hand in his. "I wrote this...the same time I wrote the apology..." He placed the letter in his hands and clasped his fingers over the surface. _Again the whole school watching, didn't they have Netflix or something?...This can't be that entertaining._ Stan

Bill was cautious as he unfolded it. Stan didn't have to read it to remember every word...it was all there, already imprinted in his heart, it slipped out onto the paper, through the ghost of his pen.

_Dear Bill,_

  
_I'm sorry, I know that might sound_  
 _pathetic and shit, but you should_  
 _know that I've never believed in words. I never believed they meant anything, I thought that only action and change could mean anything. But the thing is, your words don't leave me Bill, I'm drowning in every thought that you speak out loud and the anticipation of the thoughts you keep to yourself occupy my daydreams._

_You make me want to make words mean something. I'm sorry if you felt that you were being used for a petty mean. I miss the conversations we used to have, I miss making stories with you. I want you to believe in my words, even though that may be difficult for you to believe._

_He asked me to kiss the most beautiful person in the room, I've always found him beautiful. I can recognise beauty without being attracted to it. But things had changed, the late night talks, the words. The truth was, that night I kissed most beautiful soul in that room. As much as you may not think so, you're a wonder Bill._

_You should know that it wasn't nothing, my mind hasn't shut up about you since the kiss. Always thinking ways to make it up to you, because I care about you._

_And the idea of kissing you again... has contaiminated my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you, before any fucking kiss.The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree._

_Stan x_

It was although Bill's eyes were in an trance, lost between the words on the oage and Stan's own broken gaze. _I'm over my head, out of my head._ "The date Bill, it's the same pen...same ripped half of the page, it's real Bill, all of this" Bill's eyes pooled in his and there was a heartbeat between them before Bill stepped forward and kissed him then and there, cupping his face. _Again, in front of their whole year._

But Stan didn't care, their souls collided within that kiss, and everything around them crashed and burned around them... _perfect._

They pulled apart, Bill rested his forehead on his, their eyes closed in the bliss. "I'm helplessly infatuated with you...deep and lost in love with every part, every whisper, every breath that is Stanley Uris. A disaster to crash into my life...everything that I ever needed to breathe was you..." He whispered in Stan's ear. "Every minute, moment, every beat of my heart is winded with you. I see you, I feel you and all the stars fade away, every fear, every thought eithin me and the rest of the world give way to you...I'm so fucking in love with you" 

Stan kissed hims again, trying not to draw too much attention to the faint tears that slipped down his cheeks. "I love you so fucking much, it hurts...but in a good way, don't worry" Stan laughed and so did Bill as he sniffed, hugging him once more. They earned a few cheers from their friends and several other peers...as well as comments from Richie's microphone. 

Rhere moment was interupted but not exactly ruined by Jane and the Dickheads beginning to play a cover of _Hungry Eyes_ by _Eric Carmen_ , to serenade them. There were only smiles and giggles that flooded through them and their friends who joined them as they danced chaotically to the music, well until it was the second, surprise live performance. 

"Shalom comrades..." Richie began as he spoke through the microphone on the stage, ignoring the deathvstares he recieved from the teachers. "As we all saw earlier...my beloved kids have all grown up and...so I have a gift to celebrate their love...in song of course" 

He cleared his throat, giving Stan a small smirk. " _Oh yeah...ummm, she'll be coming round that mountain when she comes, oh yeah she will."_ Everyone cheered, some even beginning to clap on. _"She'll be coming 'round that fucking mountain when she comes, yeah that's right, that bitch will do, with her underwear on the floor with her sock and her mouth around my-"_

He was cut off by Mr Davis who pulled him away from the microphone stand, everyone booed, but cheered again when he ran back to take a bow before he ran off again...straight to a lifetime of detention. 

"I think I'm going to need a licetime of therapy to forget that"Bill said, and Stan laughed. 

"Yeah...or I can think of _other_ different things we could do instead to keep your mind off it..." Stan suggested with a smirk. 

"Oh...right, like running away and going to Mcdonald's?" He asked and Stan laughed. 

"Exactly..." Stan said, his hand slipping into Bill's letting him take him anywhere away from this place, anywhere in the world, Stan would run away with Bill. 

He knew there would be bad moments, that nothing was perfect, and there would be beautiful moments...but one thing that would always stay the same, was the fact that time was now...and it was real. 

And there was nothing his mind could say otherwise. 

It was left speechless... _oh fuck._

  
  
  
  
  


**𓆲**


	26. {Epilouge}

The sky was a mottled watercolour of blues and pinks that gave way to the orange and yellow simmer's across the sunset in that moment that fused to the midsummer breeze. Thin wisps of ghosts cascade from the last breath of inferno that clasped onto the end of Beverely Marsh's cigarrette, stretched up to meet the clouds across the horizon, cupping the sun as it falls into the darkness of the night.

The faint shadows of two figures were difted together, displaced only a few heartbeats away from their friends, the embrace around Stanley Uris was warm and comforting, just like the bonfire that was fading away with the day. _Bill Denbrough rested his head against the taller boy's, oh what a feeling that was, the weight of the infinitve creativity that maintained itself within Bill's head._ Stan thought.

Richie was chasing Eddie around the grass with a large stick, everyone else laughed along, laying lazily on the grass. "And then in my gap year I'll do an intership with a publishing agency where we can live together and I'll paint you birds and for our wedding-hey Stan...bird boy are you even listening to me?" Bill asked, giving Stan a suspicous look, who only smirked back at him.

"I was..." He tried and Bill pouted. "I was daydreaming...like you were, just not outloud" Bill nudges him soflty.

"I was talking about our future" Bill states, folding his arms and sitting up. Stan ginned, wrapping his arms around his shoulders from behind and kissing his neck softly.

"You don't have to...it doesn't matter, what ever happens will be together and it'll be fine" Stan teased, pulling him closer, Bill pretended to still be annoyed with him, until Stan attacked him with kisses and pulled him closer again until they both fell onto their backs laughing. "If we think and stress too much about it, we'll lose each other...all we have to think about is the moments we are together, because their perfect"

"My bad...I didn't realize I was going out with John Green" Bill teased and Stan fained hurt, before Bill laughed and kissed the 'outrage' out of him.

"You think we'll never lose each other?" Bill asked, his head burried in Stan's chest, his hair trickling through Stan's fingers like a waterfall. A small smile escaped his lips.

"How could we...when you never leave my fucking mind?" Stan asked and Bill laughed and looked up to meet his boyfriend's gaze, upside down but ever and always pooled with pure infatuation for Stanley Uris. "You'll always be there, and I'd hate it any other way"

"I love you..." Bill muttered tiredly, his eyelids fallening to a close, his eyelashes tickling Stan's chest. Stan leaned down to kiss Bill's forehead, before leaning back against the tree.

"I love you too" Stan whispered back and he could feel's Bill's lips crease into a smile against his body.

It hadn't been perfect, sometimes it was difficult, and Stan could admit that. There had been times where voices were raised and times when voices had been soft and seductive, whispers full of love and passion. And every moment that was and every moment that ever will be Bill Denbrough, branded and drowned Stan's heart, in ways that the ocean never could.

 _A wonder_ , that's what Bev had told Stan, all those months ago, when he first heard of the boy. The paper boat was still floating, even though it had been through the harshest of storms, with the thunder of relapses and empty promises, the lightning strikes of anger of an addict. But it was still swimming, slowly, he had nearly drowned a few times and each time, Stan would let him find his own way back to shore, standing by his side each time. _A wonder_ and within him, Stan was lost in a wonderous place.

Time was drawing to a close, ticking clocks that ran alongside their intergrated heartbeat, but they didn't care, as no matter what, no matter how many times Stan would crumble into his mind or Bill would struggle with the fight to stay clean, they didn't depend on each other and they never ran from each other. They only ran away with each other.

Bill was the adventure Stan craved at the beginning of the year...the wanderlust that slipped beneath him, within him. Better than any book he'd read, because he now knew that fictive characters were deprived from the small, seeminlgy insignificant wonders of reality.

"You can't bail on me now" Stan complained as he sat up and Bill clung onto him lazily, like a sloth as he muttered a few hostile words that Stan didn't have to translate to understand. "Not now Mike's finally got the music working...and I bet that you look good on the dancefloor"

"Don't try and use my favourite songs against me" Bill complained, and Stan gave a small wave to Mike who was still celebrating his win against DIY and physics. Bill groaned but let Stan help him up, the two of them battling pins and needles before they joined the rest of the Loser's club on their makeshift dancefloor, which was just grass.

Chaotic energy drifted through them, taking control of any common sense as they all throw their bodies around to _Love My Way,_ _by The Psychedelic Furs_ as _Call Me By Your Name_ made it a gay anthem...and the Losers club was, a little gay to say the least.

Richie danced with Eddie of course, mainly annoying him by puposefully singing the lyrics wrong. 'gAy My WaY' and doing random slut drops, knocking them both over. Eddie did get his revenge by picking him up randomly, shocking everyone. That boy was a lot stronger than he looked.

Mike was dancing with Rue, and they were the only ones who actually looked good at it, even through thr giggles and messy stumbles. Bev danced in a way that insured she could hug Ben as much as possible and Ben wasn't complaining.

"I still can't believe you failed to climb into my room" Stan laughed as he spun Bill around dramatically, who rolled his eyes.

"I blame all the YA books and fanfiction..." Bill negan and Stan laughed again. "I'm serious, it annoys me so much...so you know how in books one character always knocks on the others window for a surprise sleepover? That's what I was trying to do...I didn't mean scare the life out of your mum when she was building thoss shelves"

"Yeah, I guess next time you'd have to like plan it in advance, because hearing someone outside your window...just gonna send you into cardiac arrest right?" Stan said and he nodded. "Like I'd have to know it was you,I'd have to have like a secret knock or somethingt"

Bill thought for a moment "It would have to be unique, how about to the tune of Take Me Out?" He asked and Stan agreed, way too enthusatically, getting excited over an iconic song. "Also neighbours would probably call the police and you'd have to be able to climb in the first place, I can't even do that when I get locked out my own house"

"Yeah, so you'd have to bring a ladder or take a climbing course, we'd have to have a secret knock and not get spotted by the neighbours" Stan listed. "One day...it will be possible"

"One day..." Bill cheered before laughing along Stan as they danced along to the music in a chaotic mess.

Stan found himself falling back into Bill, evedything he did, the way he looked at him. He was completely and utterly infatuated with the boy, his mysterous, wonderful, a little broken Crashmat. He broke his fall when he fell, when he fell hard and he fell deep for him.

This was Bill, this was his were his soul ran to, this was real. Stan was no longer a fading character in his own story, a reader with no control...no now he faced the consequences, now he wrote his plot twists. He wrote it with Bill, two different books in the same series.

The song changed to _Head Over Heels, by Tears For Fears_ because it was eighties nighf apparently and Stan loved it. 

Conner had also joined them, he and Bev had fogured a way to solve their rivalry and she became co-president of the Anti-Henry Society. He wasn't really third wheeling to the power of Stan didn't know what, as his maths was shit, he had Lucas as well as Will Byers for company. Stan had gotten closer to Will after he actually agreed to play a game of D&D with him, Stan also got along with his boyfriend Mike well when he came to visit.

"It's unbareable" Richie complained as he joined Stan and Bill, dancing awkwardly with his attention focus elsewhere.

"Your grandad dancing?...I agree" Bill suggested and Richie didn't even bother with a response.

"No the fact that those two are practically married and they won't even tell each other" Richie complained, looking over to Conner and Lucas.

"Now you know how it felt with you and Eddie" Stan said and Richie had to agree with him there.

"I can't take it anymore...we're going to have to do something about it" Richie said and Stan gave him a look of disapproval.

"No we can't just interfere with other people's love lives" Stan protested and both Bill and Richie raised their eyebrows. "Not without doing it properly...."

"First one to get them together before the end of summer?" Richie suggested and Stan grinned.

"Oh no, not again" Bill complained.

"Loser auditions for the main role in the school play, it's Annie next year" Stan said with a sly smirk, which only mirrored his best friend's lips.

"I'll take that...but you best stsrt practising your lines Stanthony" Richie said shaking Stan's hand.

"Oh fuck" Bill muttered.

The music faded a while along with the last breaths of sunlight, and just before the sun completely disappeared the band of Losers, freaks, strung across the cliff that towered over the quarry. They jumped, of course they jumped, they pushed their bodies away from land, the closed minded expectations for society, away from the anxiety the stress of reality. Their bodies dropped into the cold water, the moment of shock that soaked their minds with thrill and fear of death at the same time.

Deep beneath the water, away from their associations to society, the addict, the loser, the fat boy, the slut, gay, crazy, sociopath, weak, black, creep, dead. Instead they were free to break the surface of the water and be with eachother. Stan found himself memorized by his friend's smiles, their happiness that radiated to him.

In that moment, nothing mattered and Stan realized that nothing ever meant anything, nothing was ever worth losing your mind over. Because whether you knew who you loved, whether you believe in Allah or Jesus, in evolution or parrallel universes from Doctor Who, there is only one thing that we know and we'll always know for sure...

Time is now and it's very much real.

And in coming to that conclusion, beneath the cold waters of Derry, his lips connected with Bill's...there was only one thing that managed to naviagate it's way through his mind...the only thing that ever seemed appropriate from him...

' _Oh fuck'_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**THE END**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A:N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND STICKING TO THIS MESS AND SLOW UPDATES I REALLY APPRECIATE EACH AND EVERYONE OF Y'ALL. ALL OF YOUR COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK REALLY MAKE MY DAY, REALLY. Y'ALL SO CUTE. 🥰🥰💜❤
> 
> This book was a chaotic journey and I loved writing every moment of it, I really loved the new dynamics I gave the characters😂😂. 
> 
> Aa fir the future, unfourtantely this will be last book for a while, I jave loads of new ideas, but tragically I will have to leave Wattpad as I will be stsrting my final hear in school and doing my A-Levels next year and I don't want to stsrt something I won't be able to update or continue with. But don't fear I will be back hopefully. 
> 
> In the meantime, their are loads of Stenbrough books on this platform and others, I have a reading list and also feel free to recommend any books here, self promo is more than welcomed as well. Also if anyone feels like writing a Stembrough book and are short on ideas, I would be more than happy to give you some, as I won't be able to write anymore for a while :). 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, please stay safe from coroana


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